Falling Angels
by WritePassion
Summary: Sam is on a mission to DC to find Fiona, but a plane crash forces him to fight for his own survival. Takes place after Season 5, not a part of the Sam/Yvette universe!
1. Chapter 1

_This was something that came to me the other day when I was home sick. Another one of those stories that just flew out of my fingers. Hopefully I'll be writing more on this soon after I wrap up A Time For Miracles. This one is out of the Sam/Yvette universe, takes place after Season 5._

**Falling Angels**

By WritePassion

He'd forgotten how good he looked in his summer whites. White with brass buttons, gold on the boards, and a rainbow of colored ribbons tacked across the left side of his chest. The uniform still fit, even better than the last time he wore it, thanks to his dedication to getting back into fighting shape. As he straightened the nameplate, he thought briefly about the hearing where he wore the uniform last. It was more like a kangaroo court, attempting to drum him out on a dishonorable discharge set up by an admiral bent on destroying him. In the end it all blew up in the man's face. Sam Axe won with an honorable discharge, but it cost him a continuing career in the Navy. They sent him up with a nice pension, a set of clothes, and a one way ticket to his destination of choice, Miami, and so far, things were pretty good.

Up until the reason for his dressing in his whites, anyway.

"Sam, you don't have to do this," Michael spoke as he watched his friend standing before the mirror.

"Yes, I do, Mike. If my Fed buddies aren't going to talk to me down here in Miami, maybe in DC they'll be a little more forthcoming." He turned away from the mirror, picked up his cap, and said, "You want Fiona back? This is the only way I know how to make it happen." He set the cap precisely on his head. "You're my best friend, Mike. Losing her is tearing you up, and I'm not gonna let Anson destroy you like this. I'll be back when I get some answers, or I have Fiona with me."

Sam had never seen Michael look so distraught. He couldn't answer Sam, just nodded. But when he gave him a salute, his posture military perfect, the extent of Michael's appreciation was as distinct as a signal flare in the night over a dark, empty ocean.

Sam answered the salute and said, "I'll keep in touch, Mike."

The uniform commanded respect, especially to those who understood his rank, and that's the only reason he wore it. When Sam was discharged he ditched it, stowed it away with a lot of other things in a storage facility, and never expected to need it again until they buried him. And then he hoped it wouldn't fit and they would dress him in his favorite Tommy Bahama and khakis. But this mission required something that would make people take him seriously, so he dressed for the occasion. His plan was to fly to DC and start immediately meeting with people in the FBI, CIA, the Pentagon, anywhere he could get access to find answers. Someone knew where Fiona was. The FBI took her away, but he knew how easy it was for people to get 'lost' in the government shuffle. He would find her. There was no other outcome to this mission.

As he moved through the airport, he felt admiring eyes on him. Young, old, men, and especially women, looked as he passed. But he ignored them all. Passing through security, he sensed the reticence of the screeners, as if asking him to subject himself to the same checks and procedures as everyone else was somehow disrespectful. He didn't care. With a reassuring smile toward the lady on the other side of the scanner, he went on his way.

Sam glanced at his watch and noticed he had plenty of time before his flight, so he stopped in one of the airport bars to catch up on the baseball game on the television and grab a mojito. His phone rang, and he picked it out of his pocket.

"Hello...Maddie. Hey, what's up?"

"Sam, Michael told me what you're doing. Are you sure this is such a good idea? What if you get that admiral all riled up again?"

He chuckled. "I'm not worried about him, Maddie. I doubt I'm even on his radar anymore. It's been a few years, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I just want you to be careful, Sam. This whole business with this Anson fellow just rubs me the wrong way. What if he's got people in the government behind him, and you start poking around..."

"Maddie, don't worry. I'll be careful, I promise." Sam sighed, noticed a young woman giving him the eye from another table, and smiled at her. Then he focused on Maddie and her fears. "But I also made a promise to Mike, and I'm not coming home until I have something. If it's Fi, awesome. If it's something else that leads to Fi, great. Anything else just isn't an option."

"I worry about you, Sam."

"And I appreciate it, Maddie."

"_Northwest flight 295 to Charlotte now boarding."_

"Oh, hey, Maddie, they're calling my flight. I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Sam. Be careful."

Sam hated flying with connections, but this was the only way he was getting to DC on such short notice. The plane touched down in Charlotte, North Carolina and he was glad he packed light, because he would have had to retrieve his luggage from the carousel before heading to the non-commercial commuter plane that served as transportation for the next leg of his journey. Instead he carried a suit bag with extra uniforms, a small suitcase, and his laptop as carryon. As he approached the small jet, he noted that there were only a handful of passengers besides himself. The plane seated 45, but by the time they prepared to close up the gangway, there were only seven others besides himself.

"Wait! Please wait for me!"

Sam heard the muffled shout through the window and looked out to see a woman running on three inch heels for the stairs that the flight attendant had just started retracting. Dressed in a gray suit, she carried a duffle bag over her shoulder, a laptop case, and a purse. He had to give her a lot of credit. She would certainly make Fiona, the queen of running in heels, proud. Her feet tapped up the steps and she entered the cabin with flushed cheeks and heaving chest.

"Sorry. My plane came in late. They promised my luggage would follow me."

"Not a problem, ma'am. Another few seconds and you would have been too late. Please take your seat, and we'll be leaving soon."

"Thanks."

A baggage handler zoomed up in a vehicle with a large suitcase, which he quickly stowed in the underbelly of the plane. The hatch closed with a solid thump that shook the floor under Sam's feet. Meanwhile, the latecomer plodded up the aisle with her load. She flicked a stray lock of dark brown hair away from her face, and for the briefest of moments, her hazel eyes locked with Sam's brown ones. Her gaze flitted down the aisle and she stopped at the row behind his and to the port side of the cabin. With an exhalation, she dropped her things into a seat, opened up the overhead compartment, and shoved it all inside. Then she took her seat and snapped the belt in place.

The door closed. Sam glanced at his watch. _By the time we taxi out to the runway and get into position, we'll be only ten minutes late taking off. Not too bad for an early evening flight._ As they rolled toward the runway, the flight attendant rattled off the instructions that Sam had heard hundreds of times before in his many travels. He tuned her out and concentrated on a short stack of documents that he hoped would get him some leverage once he got his foot in the door at the FBI. Bits and pieces of intel that he'd uncovered during recent investigations for Michael's clients, things that might lead them to bigger fish on the agency's most wanted list. Harris and Lane weren't interested, but maybe the higher ups would be.

He felt the plane accelerate beneath him and his back leaned farther into the seat as the airplane hurtled toward the point of takeoff. The sensation of floating once the wheels left the ground always gave him a little thrill, no matter how many times he'd been through it. Maybe it was the danger of coming back down abruptly at the point of no return that got his blood pumping. It had happened once, long ago, and every time, he set his body in anticipation that it might happen again. But the plane kept its trajectory, on a course to cruise over the clouds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The flight was scheduled to last almost two hours. They soared just over the cloud cover and Sam could see the sunset disappearing quickly in the distance to their left. He turned on the overhead reading light, and once they were at cruising altitude, he put his tray table down so he could work some more on the intel he had and figure out where the missing pieces were.

The drink cart rattled down the aisle and stopped behind him. "Miss, would you like something to drink?"

"Oh yeah, sure. Just a club soda and cranberry juice, please."

"Coming right up." The flight attendant quickly served her and moved forward to Sam's row. "Sir, would you like anything?"

"Uh, yeah, some water." He answered distractedly, reached out, and barely acknowledged her as he took the bottle she held for him. "Thanks."

"Are you a writer? Looks like you and the lady in 12B could strike up a conversation."

Sam looked up at her. "Huh?"

The flight attendant smiled and tilted her head toward the woman with the dark hair, then leaned closer to him. In a soft voice, she said, "That's Vivien Chase. She's a New York Times bestselling author. Isn't that something?"

Sam glanced over his seat at the woman. She sipped on her drink and seemed to have all her attention on her laptop, ignoring them completely. "Looks like she's kind of busy. So am I, preparing a...presentation."

"Ah, well good luck!" She gave him a wink and moved toward the other passengers farther up front.

Sam shook his head. It was pretty obvious what the flight attendant was trying to do. If he hadn't been so focused, maybe he would have taken a chance with Miss Vivien in 12B. However, his friend's happiness, and his sanity, was at stake. As much as Mike might deny it, he was no good without Fiona. He needed her beside him like the Miami beaches needed sunshine.

Turbulence hit the plane and set it bouncing as if it ran over a pothole laden road. Sam grabbed his water bottle before it spilled over files and notes. The cabin twisted to the left abruptly, and he held his papers down with one arm. A woman farther up front screamed. _These things always settle themselves. No need to get excited. _Within seconds, the airplane flew on an even course again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. We apologize for the unexpected turbulence. We're passing near a storm and we'll be rerouting around it. Unfortunately this will cause a delay of approximately 45 minutes for our arrival in Washington. We thank you for your patience."

Sam sighed. _Forty five minutes, not too bad. But that means it'll be late by the time I arrive at the hotel and get some sleep. Oh well, maybe I'll just take advantage of the extra time for some shut-eye now._ In his career, Sam learned how to get his sleep any time, anywhere, and thanks to working with Michael he was able to keep up the habit. He packed away his work, folded the tray table, and got up to put the laptop case into the overhead bin. As he closed the latch, the plane lurched again, throwing him down into the aisle.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Sam was stunned as he clung to the arm rest of the seat where Vivien Chase sat looking down at him with concerned eyes. "Yeah, I...I'm okay. This turbulence is the worst I've ever experienced, and I've flown on a lot of different aircraft."

"I much prefer the big jets. They're a lot smoother."

Sam picked himself off the floor and got back into the seat on the aisle. "Yeah, although if I were in the middle of some action, nothing beats a good chopper." He chuckled and noticed that she was still staring at him. "What?"

"You, um, you're bleeding. Here, let me get that," Vivien said as she dipped a napkin into her drink and touched the spot on his forehead.

"Ow! Hey, leave it alone! I'll get it." He reached over to the seat pocket where he stuck a napkin earlier and pressed it to the wound. He pulled it back, looked at the blood and made a face. "Ah, it's nothing. I've had lots worse."

Vivien laughed. "I suppose, being a SEAL, you've seen a lot of action."

He glanced down at the insignia that caught her attention and looked back up at her. "Yeah. I've been around a few unfriendly countries. But I'm retired from all that now."

Her brows knit. "Then why are you in uniform?"

"Long story."

"I thought there were rules against retired personnel wearing..."

"I was honorably discharged. The rules don't say I can't wear it, and I normally wouldn't, but...my business requires it."

"I see." She nodded, but he wasn't sure she understood.

"So, what about you? You seem to have a lot of knowledge about the military."

"Yes, Commander. I'm a Lieutenant in the medical corps." She paused and smiled wryly. "I worked on a carrier most of my career, and when I realized I wasn't going to get much farther than Lieutenant, I asked for reassignment to someplace a little more dangerous. I wanted to join the SEALs, but the government is still too chauvinistic to let women into their cozy little group."

"Well, any woman who can run in heels like you did deserves a shot." He said with a smile and a wink. "Are you on leave?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where are you stationed?"

She smiled. "I wanted action, but now I work at the naval hospital in Bethesda. Who says the government doesn't have a sense of humor?"

He laughed. "The flight attendant thought you were a writer."

"That's my side job, although it's fast eclipsing my day job," she replied. "I'm not ready to give up helping people, though. Writing is what I do for fun."

"Helping people is good." Maybe some day, he, Mike, and Fi could get back to doing that themselves. He cracked a grin and pressed the napkin to the cut on his forehead. It still bled a little. "So, I guess when you saw blood, you just couldn't resist, could ya?"

"No Sir, I guess not." She laughed and shook her head. "It's a calling that's so deeply ingrained I couldn't help myself. Although, I wouldn't normally use something like a half drunk glass of club soda and cranberry juice. I figured the acidity in the juice would help kill any germs."

"At least you're resourceful. A good characteristic to have."

The plane took another dive, and it felt like they were at the top of a rollercoaster going down. The entire plane vibrated as they dropped out of the sky. People screamed. An overhead bin popped open and rained down its contents onto passengers. _Okay, maybe now is a good time to be concerned._ He swore he could hear the engines straining as the pilot attempted to get them on an even level again. Sam was pretty sure they left his stomach somewhere back at 35,000 feet. Something went BOOM, the plane lurched to the side, and the oxygen masks dropped from their compartments. _Oh, this is definitely not good!_

Sam put on his mask and looked back to make sure Vivien had hers. She tightened the strap and she gave him a thumbs up. A woman still screamed up front and Sam could see arms flailing around over the seats. But the sound died when a distinct whistling grew louder. They were still losing altitude, the plane was out of control, and they were looking at drilling straight into the ground if the pilot couldn't get it straightened out soon. Sam heard another booming sound, followed by the whir of engines. In that instant, he recognized that somehow the engines stalled and the pilot was able to restart them. They were bucked around and jostled some more, but they finally straightened out. He sat back in his seat, made sure he was still buckled in tightly, and breathed a sigh of relief as his stomach came back to join him.

Then the lights went out, metal creaked and ripped, and Sam's world literally turned upside down.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sam's head felt light, and that little bump he received during the turbulence was nothing compared to the headache he had now. The mask was still on his face, so he tore it away and breathed the smoky air inside the cabin. He smelled the acrid scent of charred wood, plastic and metal. Something was on fire. He heard the flames. As he slowly opened his eyes, he noticed that the fire lent a diffused light to the cabin area, and one very distinct fact became clear: the fuselage rested on its top at a crazy angle, and they were virtually upside down.

With a little care, Sam was able to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out without crashing into the overhead bin which was now the floor. He stepped down onto the ceiling and looked around. Except for the sound of the fire which seemed to be surrounding them, there was nothing. No cries for help. No one moving about. He turned in the cramped space, reached out and felt a bare leg, and he stopped when he heard Vivien making moaning noises.

"Hey, Vivien, are you okay?"

"Yeah...I mean, yes, Sir. Just that my shoe is stuck in this seat in front of me! I can't get free."

"Okay, hang on. Let me see what I can do." The operation required more from his sense of touch than sight because it was so dim and her foot was in shadow. "Okay, no big deal, it's just the buckle on your strap. Hang on, I've got it." He opened the buckle and her foot slipped out of the shoe.

With his help, she undid her seat belt and landed in his waiting arms. "Are you hurt at all?"

"No. Could I just have my shoe back, please, Commander?"

"Yeah, sure." He handed it to her, not sure what else to do, since she seemed bent on taking care of putting it back on by herself.

"Excuse me, I want to get my stuff out of this compartment."

Sam jumped back and let her lift up the door. He held it for her while she retrieved her things. "You know, we should really haul butt and get out of here."

"Yes, Sir, but if anyone is injured this duffle bag will come in handy."

"Fair enough." Sam grabbed his things while they were at the business of salvaging, and then looked toward the front and back. "I don't think either option is open for us. Guess it's the exits over the wings."

"Yes, Sir." Vivian followed him two rows toward the back, and he stopped so abruptly, she ran into him. "Hey!"

"We're going the wrong way. Everything's turned around. We should go forward two rows."

"If the lights on the floor were working..."

"But they're not. We have to figure this out on our own. Now move, Lieutenant!" Two could play that game, and if she wanted to be so formal, he would throw his considerable rank around to their advantage.

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, that's far enough. There are the exits."

The next challenge was to open them upside down. It would seem easy, but in reality, it took more effort because of the locking mechanisms and the leverage required changed when everything was turned upside down. Sam and Vivien had to work together to get one open, and when it finally gave up its hold, they shoved the door out into whatever awaited them in the dark. It made a dull thud as it hit the ground.

"Sounds like we're up a little bit. Better let me go first," he said. "Once I'm out, I'll let you know about how far down I am, and then you can drop our stuff. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

Sam wasn't used to so many "yes, sirs" in one day. He shook his head, went feet first out the exit, and hung on by his hands. He couldn't touch the ground even if he stretched out his toes. "Okay, I'm going to drop now and hopefully I don't kill myself." He released himself and landed on solid ground. "It's about 20 feet, and it's packed dirt. Okay, throw everything down." Her purse fell and hit him in the head. "Hey, you wanna wait until I'm out of the way first?"

"Sorry, Commander. I didn't see you down there."

Sam backed up and felt the cold metal of the wing against his back. A vibration rolled from the tip of the wing to the fuselage and displaced dirt rained down.

"You better not stop to put on your makeup, Lieutenant. This plane is on some kind of shelf, and the wing is the only thing keeping it in place. If it gives way..."

"Yeah, I know! Just keep your shorts on...sir!" Sam got out of the way as he heard other things falling in rapid succession. "Okay, I'm ready to get down. You're going to catch me, right?"

"It's not that far, but I'll make sure you don't break anything, if that's what you mean."

"Thank you, Sir."

He heard her exhalations as she climbed out of the hatch, and her legs swung in the air above his head. "Okay, I'm right below you. Go for it."

"On three. One, two..."

The fuselage shifted and dropped several feet off the ledge. Vivien gasped and released her hold, falling into Sam's unprepared arms, but he quickly recovered and rolled them away from underneath it. When they stopped, he lay atop her and glanced up, anticipating what else might happen. The fire allowed him to see that the wreckage was in a very precarious position, and sticking around any longer would be life-threatening.

"Wow. That wing is bent. We better get our stuff out from under there before it goes completely." He scrambled to his feet, hurried to where their things lay, and picked up the duffle bag and their laptops.

"Wait! My purse!" Vivien called out, got to her feet, and reached it just as the stressed aluminum creaked again. Her fingers closed around the shoulder strap. As she ran toward Sam, she picked up his small suitcase.

"Get out of there!" Sam dropped his load and reached for her waist, pulling her away. The fuselage began to slide down the sloping ledge. They picked up what they salvaged and ran away from its path. The ground was uneven and littered with roots which were barely visible in the light from the fire engulfing the engines at the back section of the plane. Somehow, the tail miraculously separated from the rest of the body during the crash, sparing them from a fiery death. Now they just had to worry about being crushed.

Vivien tripped on a root and flew forward, and her body slammed into a tree. "Ouch, that's gotta hurt," Sam muttered as she clung to it and watched the wreckage come to rest where they'd lain just moments before. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she panted. "Thanks, Commander."

"Okay, before we get into any more trouble, let's drop this Commander and Lieutenant crap, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's hard seeing the uniform and not responding appropriately."

Sam chuckled. "You've been well trained. Me, I try to avoid rank and all that as much as possible. I'm just hanging out in Miami, enjoying my life, and putting all that behind me."

"Yeah, I can see that." She sounded less than convinced as she eyed the uniform which, in the dim light, it became obvious would no longer pass inspection.

"Okay, this was an unusual circumstance. Otherwise I'm Mr. Casual."

"Ms, Casual here, when I'm not on duty or doing interviews and stuff for my book."

"Well, is it settled then? No more mention of rank?"

"Yes...yes. You've got a deal. By the way, my name is Vivien Chase." She held out her hand and he shook it.

"Sam Axe. Now, we should find a location far enough away so we're not in any danger if this thing blows up or slides down any further. Then we need to think about looking for other survivors."

"In the dark, in the woods?"

"Hey, I was a SEAL, lady. I've had to do harder things."

Vivien smiled at him. "I thought we weren't mentioning rank."

"That's not my rank. That's who I am."

_Interesting. _She nodded. "Point taken. Okay, where to?"

"First, I need some light." Sam dug into his laptop case pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. He clicked it on and it cut a beam through the forest as he swept it in an arc away from the debris. "Good thing you ran into that tree. Look down."

Vivien sucked in a breath as she saw the steep decline below. She could have easily been killed by being impaled on one of the large trees sticking out of the hillside. He swung the light away to their right and saw the forest was strewn with pieces of the aircraft. Some of them smoldered.

"That way's not gonna work," Vivien observed aloud.

"Nope. Looks like we have to go that way." He turned the light to their left. "I think there's even a path. See it?"

"Yeah. So how far are we going?"

"Just enough to get safely away from this wreckage. After this little recon, I'm convinced we'll have to wait until morning when we have light before we can find anyone else." Thunder rumbled. "Crap, that storm is coming up on us."

"There were only, what, nine passengers on board?"

"Yeah, plus a flight attendant and the captain. Don't know if he had anyone else as part of the flight crew in the cockpit." Sam picked up the duffle bag and his suitcase. Vivien took his suit bag and the two computer cases. "Okay, let's move. Are you gonna be okay in those heels?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Unless you have something else handy..."

"Which I don't. My suitcase is in the cargo hold somewhere. Don't worry, I'll manage if we go slow and we're not going far." She grumbled. "I knew I should have changed before I left Tampa!"

"We'll figure something out. Don't worry."

They walked up the incline away from the fire and the plane and they came to a clearing. Lightning flashed and cut through the trees, illuminating a small cabin. "Oh, hello. What's this?" Sam dropped his load and approached the small log building, sweeping the arc of the light across the walls.

"It doesn't look like someone's home."

"It's not." He angled the light inside a window. "Looks more like a ranger substation or something." He glanced a Vivien. "We must be in a state park. But where?"

She smiled. "If we break in, I'm sure we'll find an answer inside. Not to mention we'll be dry."

Sam laughed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were my best friend's girlfriend Fiona. That sounds like something she'd say, and with that same look on her face too." The rain started to fall, just a light drizzle, but they both sensed that this was only the beginning.

"How would Fiona get in?"

"If she didn't have her lockpicking tools, a hairpin."

"Sorry, I don't have any of those." Her straight hair was short, framed her face, and curved gently under her chin. No hairpins in sight.

"Okay then, there's always the rock method." He picked up a rock bigger than his fist and smashed it through one of the small panes in the door. Then he carefully slipped his arm through the opening, reached the lock, and opened the door from the inside. "There we go, easy peasy."

Inside, Sam found a light switch and turned it on, but nothing happened. "Wonder if the plane took down the lines."

"We're lucky we didn't get electrocuted escaping it if that's the case." She looked around, taking advantage of the the dim spill from Sam's flashlight. "Maybe there are some lanterns in here somewhere."

Thunder rumbled louder. "Let's get our stuff inside first and then worry about light."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Once they were inside the shelter, they found a storage locker with just about everything needed to spend the night: a couple of battery-powered lanterns, blankets, matches, and some packaged foods. Sam started a fire in the fireplace to get rid of the chill in the air. His jacket was in his weekender bag, which helped to keep him comfortable until the fire did its work.

Vivien seemed comfortable in her suit jacket as she sat before the fire cross-legged, and spread out a few packets of food she pulled from the cabinet. "It's not that cold, Comm...Sam."

"It is if you're used to Miami, Viv."

The corner of her mouth tipped up. "Okay, I'll give you that."

Sam sat nearby, close enough to see what she had, yet far enough apart that the lamp fit in the space between them. He selected a granola bar, unwrapped it, and gnawed on it. Sarcastically, he remarked, "Oh yeah, this is great. Reminds me of being in the field."

Vivien laughed. "I can only imagine. The last time I had to do any survival stuff was in training. I'm glad someone around here is a little better versed than I."

"I think you're selling yourself short. You did a great job back there evac'ing. You've got good instincts. That counts for a lot in situations like this."

"Thanks." She chewed on some raisins that were more like rubber than fruit and stared into the fire. A bolt of lightning lit up the room, followed by a rumble of thunder. A few seconds later, they heard the hiss of rain hitting the leaves and the cabin roof. "We got here just in time."

"Yeah. I just hope that rain puts out the fire completely. I don't know where we are or how dry this forest is, but if it's as dry as things are in Florida, we could find ourselves in the middle of a forest fire." Sam paused and stood. "Speaking of where we are, there's got to be a map around here somewhere."

In the corner near the entrance stood a desk. Sam picked up one of the lamps and sat in the chair, rifled through each of the drawers, and finally found what he was looking for. Vivien watched and listened to the heavy downpour outside. Once Sam was satisfied with studying the map, he returned to his spot in front of the fireplace.

"So?"

"We're in Tennessee."

"Oh great. I can just hear the theme from 'Deliverance' right now," Vivien joked.

"No, that's just rain on a tin roof."

"Oh, even better. It's kind of creepy sounding." She shivered.

Sam got up, went to the cabinet and returned with a quilt he found in the bottom. "Here, maybe this'll be a little warmer than these blankets."

"Thank you, sir. I mean, Sam." She shook her head. "Are you sure you don't want it? I mean, being from Miami and all, you might not be as acclimated as us northern folk."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I'm going to see if I can get some bars on my cell phone and call for help. Who knows if the homing beacon on this plane works after that crash?" He checked his phone from where he sat. "Nothing here." He stood and moved around the cabin, going to each corner, checking for a signal, and shaking his head in growing frustration.

Vivien wrapped herself in the quilt and lay on the hard wood floor, using her hands as a crude pillow. "In the morning maybe we can walk around a little and find a signal." She yawned. The adrenaline was wearing off fast for her, and she could barely keep her eyes open.

Sam, however, was still running on all cylinders. "Yeah, guess there isn't much else to do tonight." He tiptoed around the cabin looking for some other way to communicate with the outside world. There was an old rotary dial phone on the desktop, but he already checked it. The line was dead. He didn't want to say anything to Vivien, but when he checked the desk for a map, he discovered a good layer of dust on it. If this was a substation, it hadn't been used in years. They were lucky to have lanterns with batteries that still worked. It was no wonder chomping on granola bars was like eating concrete. They'd been there awhile. He pulled out one of the water bottles in the storage locker and looked for an expiration date. It was stamped on the bottom - 2006. Yeah, this place was abandoned, and God only knew if they would be found if they stuck around. For now, though, they had no choice.

Lightning lit up the sky and made strange shadows in the clearing. He thought he saw something moving out there. _Of all the supplies, they couldn't leave a rifle or a shotgun? This is Tennessee for crying out loud! There might be moonshiners running around and we're on their turf!_ That thought kept him awake for hours, even after the fireworks stopped and plunged the forest into darkness. He busied himself with creating a cover for the window pane he destroyed and taped it securely in place with duct tape. Duct tape! But no gun! Then he locked the door and hoped that whatever or whoever was out there stayed out and left them alone. He turned off the lantern, banked the coals, and kept them in the dark as much as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The adrenaline wore off around 0330, but Sam wasn't about to fall asleep. The wind had picked up outside, and every once in awhile he heard a thump or the sound of something scraping against the back wall of the cabin. There was another door on that wall, but when he investigated to see where it went, he was disappointed to find it closed off by overgrowth. It would make a quick escape difficult, but not impossible if necessary. With the forest covered in a mantle of darkness, every snap of a twig seemed louder than it was. _I am not afraid. We're safe in here, as long as whatever is out there stays out there. Having a firearm would even the odds, on the off-chance that someone broke in. We did it. Who's to say that someone else wouldn't do the same?_

Vivien stirred around 0420, rolled onto her side, and went back to sleep. The coals had burned down so far, he couldn't even see her anymore. It was as if he were blind it was so dark. His thoughts went back to a time in El Salvador, when he and Mike were captured by a militia. They were both thrown into separate holes, deep dark places with covers so tightly sealing out any light, he thought he would suffocate from lack of oxygen. He spent just enough time there to feel his grip on sanity loosening. Every hour, every minute, he fought off the crawling things that were real and in his mind, trying to focus on one thing. Then everything else would fade away when he thought of her. Amanda.

But eventually reality set in. She was gone, left him for another man if he read between the lines of her last letter accurately. He had to give her credit for trying to let him down easy. Still, he hoped that maybe he'd gotten it wrong, and when he returned to the States he would apply for some leave to see her and rekindle what they'd lost.

"Amanda," Sam muttered.

"Sam? Sam, wake up."

He felt his body jostling and his eyes snapped open. He found himself still in a sitting position pressed up against the cabin wall. The faint gray light of dawn filtered in through the windows. Birds sang outside. Vivian knelt before him with her big hazel eyes staring at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I'm sorry, I should have been watching over you last night with that head injury."

He waved her off. "I'm fine. What head injury?"

Vivien frowned as she studied the track of dried blood and touched his forehead lightly. He winced and pulled back. "Just as I thought. I need to clean that up."

Sam let out a large sigh. "I'm fine, Viv. I was awake most of the night keeping watch. I didn't even feel tired until...oh...0400 or so."

"Well, it's about 0530 now, so you weren't out long. In a sense that's a good thing." As she spoke, she rifled through the duffel bag, came up with some supplies, and set them on top of the bag before working on him. "You got a little rest, but I didn't have to worry about you becoming unresponsive. That head injury mustn't be too bad, then." She carefully cleaned the jagged cut, secured it with a couple of butterfly bandages, and said, "I can put something over this, but you're not bleeding, so I don't really see a need for it."

"It's okay. Just...just leave it alone." He fought a wave of dizziness. Now was not the time to be fainting dead away like a damsel in distress. They had to look for survivors. He slowly inched his way up the wall until he stood on his feet.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Vivien stood before him, briefly two images that melded into one. "You're looking a little pale, Com...Sam." She smiled. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I just need to get my bearings, and then we'll see if we can find any survivors."

"You need something to eat. A couple bites of a cardboard granola bar aren't enough." She reached down, picked up a packet, and with an encouraging smile shook it in front of him. "Raisins?"

"Uh, no thanks." He wrinkled his nose and pushed away from the wall. "We'll leave our stuff here and come back for it. I found a spare key in the desk drawer last night, so we can lock it up." He looked down at her shoes. "Did you figure out how to solve that little problem?"

She quickly glanced down and back up to him. "Not really."

His mouth twisted in thought for a moment. "What's your shoe size?"

Viven's eyebrow twitched. "A ten. You're lucky you didn't ask for my dress size, buster."

Sam ignored the barb and picked up his weekender bag. Inside, he had a pair of sneakers for if and when he went casual while in DC. "Here, they're a little big, but they've got to be better than those heels."

"Thank you," Vivien said as she slipped off her shoes and slid into his. "I'll just have to tighten the laces and I should be fine. Ah yes, this will do. Looks like crap with my suit, but hey, I'm not exactly looking to win the Miss Hillbilly pageant, now am I?"

"No, I'd have to knock out some of your teeth for you to qualify."

She laughed. "I like your sense of humor, Sam."

"Thanks." He was clearly focused on their objective. "Let's go."

As they walked the path to the wreckage, Vivien walked in front of Sam and played with her hair, twisting it into a bun and securing it to her head with a plastic hair clip she dug from her purse before they left the cabin. She tugged on her skirt and walked like a woman with a purpose. Sam shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder. She had a lot of supplies and some equipment in the bag, plenty of resources if they needed them. They were getting closer. He could smell the charred remains.

"How far did we walk last night," Vivien asked, turning her head to address him.

"Watch the ground for roots, Viv. I think it was maybe a quarter mile. Not far at all."

"I see something silver through the trees!" She quickened her pace and he followed.

They soon came upon the mangled corpse of the commuter plane. The acrid smell of smoke was stronger as some of the trees still gave up whiffs of smoke. The sky overhead was gray with the promise of more rain. Vivien moved toward an unidentifiable bundle near the tail section, while Sam dropped the duffel bag and went in search of the other passengers.

"I'll check up front, since everybody else was up there."

"I think there was one guy toward the back behind us a few rows."

Sam nodded. He approached the fuselage, which had tumbled completely off the shelf during the night, crushing the wing beneath it. The cockpit cracked off like part of an egg, leaving the inside exposed. It was partially collapsed. Before he took a look inside, he mentally prepared himself for what he might find. _There should be a total of seven people, six passengers and the flight attendant._ He remembered seeing her strap herself into a jump seat against the cockpit wall shortly before the crash. He turned to the right, where the cockpit laid to rest, and he saw what was left of her. _It was probably just as well I didn't have anything to eat yet this morning._ As it was, he felt a little lightheaded, and he turned away.

His sweep of the cabin didn't take long.

"Sam? Where are you?"

There was no reason to stay, so he left the cabin and approached her. "I was checking out the interior of the fuselage."

"Well?" She looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

He shook his head. "They're all dead. Any luck?"

"No." Vivien's eyes filled with tears that she valiantly fought to keep in check. "That guy in back, well...he was...let's just say I hope he was dead before the fire."

"Hey, it's okay. At least we're still alive," Sam said and reached for her, but she pulled away, grabbed the duffel and began walking back to the cabin. He gave the crumbled mess one last look before following her. "Hey wait, maybe we should see what we can salvage from the hold."

"You go right ahead. I've seen enough for now." She stopped, looked up at the sky, and then turned to him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't usually get like this. So emotional." She put on a stoic face. "I've, um, been going through some stuff lately...I guess it's affecting me professionally, and I apologize for that."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. "That's understandable. Considering you survived a serious plane crash, I think you have every right to be a little emotional. Me, I'm just really thankful to be alive and kickin'." He held out a hand to her. "Come on, let's get you back to the cabin, and I'll do a search of the plane, see if I can find anything for us to eat. At the very least, I can recover that humongous suitcase of yours." He chuckled.

She grinned. "You saw that, huh? Sorry, when I do a book tour, I can't pack light, much as I'd like to."

"And the Navy gives you that kind of time off to do those things?"

She shrugged. "My books are good PR, I guess, so they let me have a lot of weekend passes."

"I suppose it doesn't hurt that you're in a position that allows some freedom of movement."

"True." She stopped, sighed, and held out her hand. "Why don't you just give me the key and I'll wait at the cabin for you? Maybe I can boil some of those granola bars and make oatmeal or something."

Sam laughed. "I don't think blowing them up with C4 would help those suckers, but hey, give it a shot." He slipped the key into her hand, gave her the duffel bag, and turned back to the wreckage.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The last thing Sam wanted to do was sift through the wreckage looking for Vivien's luggage or something salvageable. He should have been in DC tracking down leads and haranguing anyone who would listen to him, pleading for Fiona's release. But he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no foreseeable way of getting out, so he did his best. His first thought would have been to check out the galley for food, but that went up in flames with the engines. There was nothing left to recover. The fuselage lay on its side, no longer upside down, which made it easier to search the cargo hold. Sam had to crawl through it, but in the end, all he found of any use was Vivien's suitcase.

As he turned around so his legs were heading out of the front first, his knee hit the edge of a hard silver case. "Ow! What the..." He tossed Vivien's bag out of the ripped up opening and reached for the offending piece of luggage. Only it wasn't another suitcase. Whatever it was, it was locked, and it wasn't an easy one to pick, but Sam did it with a thin metal strip that came from God knew where. He sucked in a breath as he opened the case and found a smorgasbord of weaponry: a police-issue Glock, and two Berettas, along with a collapsible sniper rifle. _Wonder who on board was packing this kind of heat!_ Packs of ammunition were tucked around the sides, and all of this nested in foam rubber. _Guess I don't have to worry about us not being armed!_

Sam chose a Beretta and loaded it before closing up the case and taking it and Vivien's luggage back to the cabin. His stomach rumbled and he felt dizzy again, which reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything since those couple of bites of ancient granola bar the night before. His head pounded from the lack of food and caffeine, which meant he was to the point that whatever she made, he would eat it. Consuming something less than palatable was par for the course in the field, and Sam was well-versed in the practice. He'd suck it up and endure.

A twig snapped from somewhere deep in the woods and Sam stopped as his head swiveled around. His eyes scanned the forest, but there was nothing out there. Then he saw it: a small deer was almost perfectly camouflaged in some dry brush about fifty yards away.

"I should have picked the sniper rifle," he muttered to himself. Slowly, so painstakingly slow, he set the cases down on the pathway. Then he reached for the gun, slid off the safety, and raised the weapon.

The deer looked at him, its eyes big and its body locked in fright. Sam aimed carefully. Trying to shoot a deer with a Beretta at this distance was crazy, but if it got them a good meal or two, he was willing to take a chance. Aiming for the head wasn't easy; if he hit it, most likely one shot would take it down, since it was so small. Anywhere else, and it would run until it bled out, and he sure didn't want to have to chase a deer through the woods. He squeezed the trigger, the gun fired, and the deer took off. He fired a couple more rounds, but the animal ran off to live another day.

"Crap, I missed." He put the safety back on, tucked the gun into his waistband, and picked up the cases.

He arrived at their temporary shelter to find Vivien standing outside the cabin, scanning the woods. She caught sight of him and called, "Hey, did you hear those shots?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, grinning. "That was me trying to hit a deer."

"You? How..." Her eyes focused on the black butt of the gun sticking out of his waistband. "Where'd you find that?"

"On the plane. Someone was packing, for what, I don't know. But their loss is our gain. We've got a nice stock of ammunition, three handguns and a rifle."

"Well you should have used the rifle. Duh!"

"Remind me next time to leave your entire closet behind at the crash site, and then I could have carried the rifle," Sam retorted as he dropped her luggage roughly at her feet. "Or I could leave it on the trail and your highness can go get it herself."

"Wow. What'd I say?" Vivien looked after him as he went into the cabin without another word. She grabbed the handle of her case and rolled it over the bumpy ground and inside. "Hey, I'm sorry, whatever I said to set you off like that."

"No, I'm sorry," Sam mumbled as he sat in a squeaky office chair and dropped his head into his hand.

Vivien closed the cabin door, approached him, and knelt down at his feet. She reached for his wrist and took his pulse.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm checking on you. Your pulse is racing, and you're sweating."

"I just hauled your gargantuan piece of luggage a quarter mile, uphill." He sat up straighter and looked at her. "How do you think my pulse is going to be after that?"

She brought her gear over to him and checked his blood pressure. Then she shone a penlight into his eyes, but he blinked in protest. She sighed, "Sam, you're the worst patient ever! Will you just sit for a minute and let me check you out? Please?"

"Fine. You've got 60 seconds," he said and glanced at his watch.

Vivien shook her head and worked fast. Before her time was up, she said, "I'm worried about you and that concussion. With the lack of food and water, and you've been pushing yourself...it's not good. You need something to eat and drink and get some rest."

"Well, I'll take some of that water. Did you manage to do anything with the limited food stores?"

Vivien made a face. "Not really. My attempt at softening up the granola bars resulted in them falling apart and just floating on the surface of the water. So it's like granola gazpacho."

"Better than nothing at all. I'll take it."

She handed him a plastic bowl she found in the cabinet, and like she said, the bits and pieces of granola floated on the surface. "I'm afraid you'll just have to drink it. No spoons."

"No problem." He took one sip. "Oh man," he laughed. "This is pretty bad."

"Yeah. Trust me, if I had the proper resources, I could cook you a heck of a meal."

"Sorry I didn't get that deer."

"If you had, I would have thought you were beyond belief, Sam. You're lucky you could hold the gun steady." She picked up his arm by the wrist and noted that his hand shook. "You're suffering from a drop in blood sugar. I went through the same thing until I subjected myself to that...stuff. I threw in some raisins. Between the natural sugar and the iron, it'll help you get more stable."

"Thanks, Viv. I appreciate everything you're doing."

She shrugged. "Just trying to survive."

They fell silent as Sam finished his meager lunch. He put up with her watching him as if she would clock him if he didn't finish it, slurped up the last of the raisins that stuck to the bottom of the bowl, and Vivien took it from him. Then she dropped two tablets in his hand and gave him a bottle of water.

"Take these for the headache, and then you should lay down for a little while and sleep."

"We should be trying to get out of here."

"Not yet. Maybe later this afternoon. Just humor me and rest for a little bit, okay?"

"Okay," Sam agreed reluctantly and dropped onto the blankets that Vivien set on the floor for him. She created a pillow using her suit jacket rolled up and tucked it under his head, and folded the quilt over him.

"I'll wake you up in a couple hours. In the meantime, I'll study that map and see if I can figure out where to go."

Sam let out a sigh as he folded his arms close to his body and tucked his hands under his head. He closed his eyes and seemed to drift off quickly, but then he surprised her when he mumbled, "Viv, you'd make a great SEAL."

"Thanks, Sam." She smiled and moved to the desk to study the map. To herself, she muttered, "We need to get you out of here. But until I know how to do that, we're not going anywhere. It doesn't make sense to get lost in the woods without shelter."

A rumble of thunder agreed with her. The sky darkened and large drops of rain hit the window. Vivien turned on the lantern to better see the map, because the rain fell so hard, it cut the light coming in the window by half. Then the light dimmed a lot more, and she looked up and screamed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The piercing sound woke Sam with a start. He threw off the covers, jumped to his feet, and pulled out the gun in one fluid movement. If Vivien thought his pulse was racing before, she would have been alarmed at it now. He could almost hear the blood pumping through his head as he turned his attention on Vivien and the dark figure standing at the window.

"What's going on?"

The figure moved toward the door and pounded on it. "Please, let me in!"

Sam and Vivien looked at each other. He tossed her his weapon, quickly retrieved another one of the handguns and loaded it, and cautiously approached the door.

"What do you want?"

"Just some shelter, mister! It's rainin' buckets out here!"

Sam turned the lock and opened the door, keeping the gun aimed at the man who came inside with his head down. Water rolled off the brim of his hat. He looked up at the gun, froze, and raised his hands. The man was young, maybe no more than nineteen or twenty. He was soaked to the skin, but even so they could see he was dressed in a gray wool uniform, a Civil War uniform to be precise. A musket was slung across his back.

"Give me that gun," Sam ordered. "Slowly."

He nodded and followed Sam's orders. "It's not like I can do anythin' with it, sir. My powder's all wet now." He dropped the musket at Sam's feet.

"Good. You got any knives or anything on you, drop them." When a large knife and a wicked looking bayonet lay on the floor, he directed him over to a chair. "Sit down by that fire and get dried off."

"Y-yes, sir."

Vivien closed the door and moved closer to Sam. "Did we go through a time warp or something?"

Sam picked up the young man's weapons and laid them on the opposite side of the room. Then he turned to him and asked, "What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I'd ask the same thing of you, but that wouldn't be polite," he said with a smirk.

"Our plane crashed," Sam replied. "We're just holed up here for awhile until we can figure out where we are and how to get out of these woods."

"Plane? What's a plane?"

Sam and Vivien glanced at each other, and Sam let out a deep breath. "Oh boy." He turned back to the man and asked, "What's your name?"

"Jedediah Cox, sir. I'm just a lowly private in the Confederate Army." He looked Sam up and down. "I ain't never seen a uniform like that before. What branch of the service are you in?"

"I'm in the Navy. The United States Navy. And so is she."

"Really? The Union lets women into the service?" He glanced at her, taking in her bare legs. "I bet you're a cook or somethin', huh?"

Vivien stared at him and balled up her fists. "That's pretty sexist of you."

It took all of Sam's willpower to not slap the guy himself. "Okay, you just sit there for a second." He took Vivien gently by the arm and retreated to a corner to talk.

"What's going on, Sam? Did we really travel through time?"

He gave her a disgusted look. "No, he's just playing his part."

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard how these guys work. You know, the Civil War re-enactors. When they're in uniform, they're on. They're completely wrapped up in that era, and they have to act like they don't know anything about the 21st century."

"Really? That's...weird."

"Yeah, well, to each his own, I guess. Whatever, the point is we aren't going to get anything useful out of him, except maybe a way to a road. Maybe there's a town nearby. There's gotta be something. They don't do a re-creation out in the middle of the woods without an audience."

Vivien looked at Jedediah Cox. "Very weird. He even has a 19th century sounding name."

"Might be a character he plays." Sam shrugged.

"So I guess I should just forgive him for the crass remarks, huh?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Better off just trying to get over it, because we may need him to help us out of here, if he's useful."

"And now that I have my clothes, maybe I should change into some pants. I don't like how he was staring at my legs."

They were fortunate that the cabin had a small bathroom. There was no running water, but at least it was a place where Vivien could change. She soon emerged wearing jeans and a t-shirt emblazoned with a small logo of the carrier on which she was once stationed.

She addressed Sam, who paced around the room, thinking. "Has he said anything?"

Jedediah answered for him. "No, ma'am. Just tryin' to dry off."

"Well, I can tell you right now it'll take forever if you keep that tunic on. Why don't you remove it, hang it up over the mantel, and let it dry by itself?"

He glanced at Sam for approval. "Yeah, go ahead."

Jedediah got up, took off the heavy wool coat and did as Vivien instructed. Then he crossed his arms over his damp shirt and sat down again, staring into the fire. She threw a few more logs on it and let it blaze up.

"If we stay here any longer, we're gonna have to get some wood," Sam said. "Has he got a hatchet?"

"In my kit." He shivered. "You know, you can talk to me. I may look stupid, but I ain't."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up in a smile. "Sorry, kid." Sam grabbed another chair, turned it around, and sat on it so his arms rested on the back. He wouldn't admit it to Vivien, but the head injury was starting to dull his edge. "So, you wanna tell us why you're out here alone in a Civil War uniform?"

"I'm kinda new at this. I mean, I always went to the skirmishes with my brother, but now I'm part of the regiment. I was with a platoon, and we were patrolling for Union soldiers, and I got lost."

"You're lost." Sam rolled his eyes and glanced at Vivien. "So much for hoping he could help us get out of here." He turned back to Jedediah. "Jed...you mind if I call you Jed?"

"Not at all, sir. Except I don't know your name. Either of your names."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Sam Axe, and this is Vivien Chase."

A slight spark of recognition lit up his eyes, but for only a second. Sam saw it but kept his poker face. _He knows her books. So we're definitely not in the 19th century! That's a relief!_

"It's a pleasure, Miss Vivien," Jedediah said with a syrupy southern accent. Sam expected him to get out of his chair and kiss Miss Vivien on the hand and bow or something, but he stayed where he was and glanced at Sam warily. Sam knew Jedediah was too unsure about the guy with the Beretta to do something so foolish.

"Okay then, now that we got that out of the way...where's the nearest town?"

"I think it's about five miles north of here. But you've got to take this path that runs along the cabin. It hits the road up about a mile or so."

"You sure about this?"

"Well, as sure as I can be, considering I'm lost." He smiled. "Tell you the truth, the only way I know about is because that's the way I took getting here."

Sam shook his head and ran a hand over his face, holding back his frustration. He really didn't want to be here any longer than was necessary. He should be in Washington helping his friends. Instead, he was wasting his time with a country hick running around the woods with a peashooter pretending to be in a horrific war. Why anyone would want to relive it was beyond him.

Vivien came forward with the map from the desk. She stretched it out and showed it to Jedediah. "Jed, can you show us on this map where we need to go?"

"May I, Miss Vivien?" He reached out to take it from her. "Thank you, ma'am." By the light of the fire he studied it, hemmed and hawed a little, and finally answered her. "Yes, ma'am. You're right here, at this station. The county road runs along here." He traced it with his finger. "This trail will lead you right to it, and after that, you go north a few miles and you'll run into Prescott. It's a little itty bitty town, but the folks are friendly. If you ain't Yankees, that is."

"I'm more of a Tigers fan myself," Sam said with serious expression.

Vivien laughed. "Sam!"

Jedediah looked up at her, his eyes questioning. "It was a joke, Jed." She sighed and took the map, and returned it to the desk. She peered out the window, but it was difficult to see anything with the rain rolling down the panes. "It's really coming down out there. Sam, why hasn't anyone come looking for the aircraft? Will they wait until the weather clears up?"

"Maybe, but my guess is they just don't know where we are. If the transponder was destroyed in the crash, they'll have no idea where to begin, except where the last radar signature showed us. But if they lost radar and we went down farther away from where they got the last signal, they'll never find us." He noted Jedediah listened to his words and stayed in character the entire time, looking astounded at their conversation. "We just have to hope that the county road will lead us to that town and a cell tower. Then we can call for help."

Vivien sighed heavily and stared out the window. "It's times like this I wish I had a sat phone."

"Yeah, no kidding. Except I go through phones like they're candy, so I don't think I'd want to pay to replace one of those every time I lose it."

She looked at him, skeptical. "You lose your phone? A nice responsible guy like you?"

"Well, it's not through carelessness. Sometimes they get traced, or confiscated, or...anyway, the point is, I go through a lot of burn phones."

"Ah." She smiled. "It sounds like you lead a very interesting life, Sam."

"If I told you, Viv, you'd never believe it. But then again, you might. You're a writer with an imagination." He smiled back at her.

"So, what about me? What are you two going to do with me?"

Sam shrugged. "If you're not hiding anything, when this storm stops you're going to lead us to this town, and from there...whatever you do is up to you."

"Sure, I can do that. But like I said, the folks in that town don't like Northerners."

He smirked. "Hey, I live in Miami. Any farther south and I'd be in Key West."

"I'm from Michigan. Sorry."

"Well, you still sound like a Yankee, mister. Could be trouble."

"Let us worry about that. You just get us there."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The rain finally let up, but when the trio left the cabin, the trail was a muddy mess. Even with her casual shoes, Vivien slipped. Jedediah led the way, while Sam helped her keep her footing. Before they left he changed into more appropriate clothing: jeans, a hawaiian shirt, and sneakers that had a good tread on them. Viven's flats were better on concrete than slippery earth.

"Sam, I don't think we're ever gonna get there. We'll just slide back down into that gully."

"Just keep pushing forward. It starts to level off up there."

"We should have packed lighter and left all my crap back at the cabin."

Sam chuckled. "Hey, this weight is probably the only thing keeping you from sliding into that gully, so be thankful we've got it."

He was glad that they packed smart. Some of their things, like Vivien's large suitcase, they left behind. Instead, they co-mingled her essentials in Sam's smaller bag. He unpacked the weapons and carried the rifle strapped across his back and had one handgun tucked into his waistband, and their pockets were full of ammunition. Vivien carried the other two handguns, one in her hand, the other in Sam's small bag. The duffel full of medical supplies she carried across her back. He carried the suit bag with more of their things inside, including their laptops. Considering that the cabin hadn't been touched in years, Sam felt pretty confident that what remained behind would be left alone, and maybe later they could go back to recover those things.

Jedediah slipped in the muck, but he used a thick branch as a walking stick to keep his footing. He carried his pack and weapons, minus the bayonet and knife, which he left behind with the gun powder at Sam's insistence. He didn't have any musket balls with him, for which Sam was grateful. If the kid ever did shoot his musket, he was only equipped with blanks. That gave teeth to his theory of the re-enactor scenario. But they still didn't know what he was doing out there alone. When they reached flat ground and found the road, they were all relieved.

"Well, here it is, just like I said," Jedediah declared with a smile. "Now, if y'all will excuse me..."

"Not so fast, Johnny Reb. You were going to take us into town, weren't you?"

"Well...I figured now that you're on the road, you could make it yourself. It's just up that way a few miles." He pointed in the direction opposite of where Sam expected they would go.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "I thought you said it was north."

"Yep. North." He continued to point south.

"That's the wrong way. What are you trying to pull?" Sam stepped into his personal space and looked down at him in a way that made the young man quake in his boots.

"I-I'm sorry, mister! I musta got turned around." He scowled. "Hey, how do you know that's south, anyway?"

"I have a good sense of direction," Sam replied. He pulled out something from his pocket and held it up for Jedediah to see. "And I found this handy little thing called a compass in the desk at the cabin."

Jedediah looked defeated. "Okay, ya got me."

"What do you mean, we got you?" Vivien looked at him, puzzled.

"I was supposed to lead you the wrong way. The Captain said I was supposed to go down to the cabin and get the people inside, lead them up here and down the hill a ways. They're waiting to capture you."

Vivien asked, "How did your captain know where we were?"

Sam stared at the kid as recollection kicked in. "Recon. I thought I saw something out there last night during the thunderstorm. Somebody was watching us."

"I don't believe this. What is going on?"

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you. The Captain just ordered me to..."

Sam took a deep breath and exclaimed, "Okay, forget about it. We're out of here, and you can go back by yourself. And, I don't know, tell your 'Captain' that we escaped." Sam took a step backwards. "Just give us ten minutes' head start, and then you go walking down that hill and find your platoon. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good. Come on, Viv. Let's go." He turned and gestured for her to leave with him.

Vivien turned without a word and hustled to catch up to Sam. She was glad that the road was flat and made of asphalt. It made it easier to keep up with his long strides.

"I wonder if that kid is the result of inbreeding," Sam muttered. "Dumber than a box of rocks."

"He was pretty strange, wasn't he?" She shook her head. "I'm even more convinced that you have to be flaky to want to dress up like that and run around shooting off archaic weapons that do nothing but make you deaf. All in the name of living history."

They rounded a bend and couldn't see Jedediah anymore. The trees dripped water on the road and their heads as they passed under a canopy of oaks and maples. The sun came out and drove fingers of light down through the leaves to dapple the road ahead.

"It's really nice out here. Quiet, peaceful."

"Yeah, but I'd love to be somewhere close to civilization right now." Sam pulled out his phone and checked it. "Still no signal. Watch, Prescott will be some cowtown that doesn't even have electricity, never mind a cell tower."

"There aren't even any farms around," Vivien remarked as she huffed a little from the effort it took to keep up with Sam. "We are really out in the sticks!"

"Let's just keep moving. I don't know why, but I've got a bad feeling about all this."

They walked for an hour at a good pace, although Sam had to slow down a little or risk losing Vivien. And, to tell the truth, he was starting to run out of gas. When he was younger, he could have gone all day without rations if necessary. But other than a few bottles of water they took with them, they had nothing to eat, and deprivation was starting to take its toll. "Hey, you want to switch packs? I don't know if this suit bag is any lighter than that duffel, but we can try it."

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Yeah, sounds like a good plan." Just when they were in the middle of their exchange, trees and undergrowth rustled, and gray coats came out of the brush, guns aimed at them.

"Hands up, you two."

"Oh for Pete's sake," Vivien muttered. Her eyes scanned the men and found someone with a cavalry hat and a lot of brass on his coat. "Are you the leader of this group?"

"Why yes, yes I am."

"Well then, sir, why are you trying to detain us? You can obviously see that we aren't part of your Civil War re-creation stuff. We don't even know what battle you're trying to replay!"

"My dear Miss Vivien, we aren't replaying a battle." With lightning quick moves, he pulled a very modern looking gun from under the flaps of his coat. "Y'all are my prisoners."

"Come on, this has really gotten out of hand," Sam said with indignation. "Cut the crap, already! What do you really want?"

"You and your laptop, Mr. Axe."

"Me. And why do you want my laptop? Just wait about 100 years or so and you can buy your own." _How does this guy know my name?_

The man laughed, but his face was serious. "Drop everything, including your weapons."

"I don't believe this. I just do not believe this," Vivien muttered as she felt the barrel of a rifle poking her in the side and she glanced over to see one of the men standing with a stone face and his finger on the trigger.

"Believe it, darlin'. You two are worth a lot to a friend of mine. Sam Axe more than you, but for the right price, I know someone who will be happy to see you too, Miss Vivien Chase." He took a step forward. "You're really worth a lot more alive, but if I have to..." He cocked the hammer back on the revolver. It was only six shots, but at that range, it wouldn't matter. They were in trouble, big trouble, deep in the heart of Dixie.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"You know, you could at least do us the courtesy of telling us your name," Vivien said as she glanced back toward the leader. One of his lackeys rewarded her with a gun muzzle shoved into her back that sent her stumbling. Her hands were held fast behind her with shackles, the old fashioned 19th century kind, so she couldn't break her fall.

Sam winced as she hit the pavement.

"Don't even twitch, Mr. Axe, or you're dead."

"I thought your pal wanted me. I'm no use to him if I'm dead."

"True enough. But I think he'd be happy enough with the information on your computer."

"What information? I've got nothing valuable on it."

"Really. We'll find out when we get to our base, won't we?"

Sam shook his head. Other than some racy e-mails from his lady friends and some files he kept from past jobs with Mike, there wasn't anything of worth on it, unless someone knew what they were looking for. That's why he kept it password protected, supported by an app that would wipe the hard drive clean if anyone tried to access something he locked down really well. The files he had on Anson were included in that category, as well as some leads on where Fiona might be. _What would these guys want with those files?_ He had to think outside the box, look beyond the uniforms and the old style weaponry, and consider why a bunch of bad weekend warriors would want them. _Could they be connected to Anson? Would he really go through this much trouble to bother with me? _

Anson was ruthless. He didn't even blink an eyelash when it came to wasting innocent people. Of all the scumbags Michael had to deal with, Anson was the biggest and the scummiest. And he pulled it all off with that smug clown-like expression on his face that turned Sam's stomach. Just thinking about him made him want to vomit, if he'd anything to lose. _Shouldn't have thought about that. I was doing just fine until I remembered that I'm starving. _Sometimes, denial was a beautiful thing.

"We're here," the leader announced with little flair.

Sam had been hiking on auto-pilot, not watching where they were going. He could have kicked himself for not being more aware of his surroundings. _Yeah, I'm in bad shape if I can't think and survey at the same time._

They stood before a tall stockade fence made of new pine. It ran to the left and right about 100 feet and was capped by guard towers in the corners. The large gates opened, and they were pushed inside. Along the longer fence walls were several buildings. From one of them came the sound of laughter and music. At the end of the fort stood a wooden two story building, which was their destination. Along the way they saw hundreds of small white tents pitched in rows, interspersed at regular intervals with larger officer's tents. Wagons, horses, and gear were everywhere. Women walked among the camp site wearing period dresses, cooking over open fires or carrying laundry baskets and small children. Sam and Vivien glanced at each other in amazement at the care and detail that went into the fort.

They reached the end of the promenade and were marched up the steps into the building.

"Wait here." Their captor stopped them in the hallway, and he pushed Sam roughly onto a bench.

"Mind if I sit, too?"

"Suit yourself, Miss Vivien."

He walked away and left them alone with Jedediah. She glared up at him. "You seemed like such a nice kid. Boy, was I wrong!"

"Sorry, ma'am. Just doin' my job." He even tried to look contrite, which only irritated her more.

Sam felt Vivien's thigh tighten next to his. "Don't do it, Viv. He's not worth it."

"Worth what, Sam?" She fought to keep her voice down. "What do these people want with us?"

"I don't know, but I think I have an idea who wants me. I'm just surprised that he'd bother." He paused. "It's my friend Mike that he really wants, but everybody in his way is just an annoyance to be gotten rid of. He set up Fiona, Mike's girlfriend, and the FBI took her away. I was going to Washington to rub elbows and grease a few palms if necessary to get intel on where she could be. Then this happened. It just seems too convenient for me to..."

The office door opened, and their captor emerged. "He will see you now."

Jedediah used the end of his gun to urge them to their feet. Sam tried to console himself with the fact that the kid only had blanks, but was he really certain of that anymore? Maybe during their hike he switched out and was armed as lethally as the rest of them. He saw the bullets in their leader's revolver. He couldn't assume with this kind of security that he didn't have real musket balls too. The good news was that they had one-shot and they'd have to reload. But if the entire fort was armed for real with over a hundred muskets, one of them was bound to hit their target. No, it was better to just go along with things for now.

Sam let Vivien enter the room first and followed closely behind. The door closed, and Sam was more than a little surprised to see that no one came in with them. They were alone with the man who leaned over a credenza pouring himself a drink. Sam guessed he was playing a general, if the insignia and decorations were any indication. He straightened, eyed Sam watching him, and took a long draw on his whisky before turning and walking silently past them. He stood behind a large mahogany desk, set the drink down, and wordlessly opened Sam's laptop that sat on the desk surface.

"Mr. Axe, would you please give me the password for your computer?"

"Not even my friends know my password. Why should I give it to you?"

"It'll be a lot less painful for you now if you give it to me. If I have to turn you over to Anson," he smiled coldly and continued, "You know he'll get what he wants, whatever the cost."

"There's nothing he wants on my computer unless he wants my girlfriends' e-mail addresses."

The man laughed. "Obviously there's something important on it. Why would you secure it otherwise?"

"I have my reasons. What's yours for getting involved with a snake like Anson?"

"We have mutual acquaintances...and enemies."

"Mike."

"Michael Westen. He and Miss Glenanne were instrumental in taking down a team of Eastern European assassins who were going to make me a very rich man. I could have retired. But because of them, alliances were destroyed, seeds of mistrust were sown, and the only remedy was to get to them and take them down." He grinned. "One down, one to go."

Sam felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach. "Fi. You didn't..."

"No, she's not dead yet, but she will be when O'Neal gets a hold of her. He's paid quite handsomely for the chance to make Glenanne squirm before her pretty little throat gets slashed." He shook his head and came around the desk. "Apparently he's more concerned with revenge than profit this time around." He perched himself on the corner of his desk, took another drink, and said, "If you give me what I need, maybe there could be something for you in this...Sam."

"I don't give up my friends for money, or anything else." The steely gaze he gave the man made him slip off the desk and retreat a few steps.

"It's too bad, because you're a nice guy, Sam. You care about people. But come on, do you really want to sacrifice your life for some piddly information on your computer? Or do you want to walk out of here scot free, just for giving up a little password? Look, I've seen the files you had tucked away in the case. If those are just the tip of the iceberg...I think I could get you and Miss Chase out of here in exchange for the password."

Sam refused to answer, because he knew what he had on that hard drive was worth more to his investigation than what this guy could promise. If Anson found what he knew so far, more lives would be in danger. Not just Fiona's, Vivien's and his own.

"He doesn't want you, Sam. He wants Weston. Not just in his custody, but...he wants to ruin him, to get him to the point where everything he loves and protects is no longer able to love him back, and there's nothing to guard any more. Then he will have no choice but to work for Anson and carry out his plans."

Silence buzzed in the room. Sam's jaw set in determination, and in a soft, measured tone, he said, "You can take a flying leap off the Washington Monument, pal."

The man sighed in resignation. "Fine, we'll have one of our experts work on this and figure it out. In the meantime, I hope you find your accommodations pleasant." He opened the door and let in a group of six men who were well armed. They surrounded Sam and Vivien and led them out to the promenade. People stopped and watched as the prisoners were led to a small building made of fieldstone. Iron bars were on the windows, and the door made of solid wood with a sturdy lock.

"Enjoy your stay," Jedediah said as he pushed Vivien inside. She let out a shocked exclamation as she hit the wall opposite the door. Before Sam could fight back, two men pushed him inside, slammed the door and locked it. Through it, the kid yelled, "You'll get your dinner in a little while. Til then, y'all just relax. Have a good time." His compatriots laughed and dispersed to their guard duties, and Jedediah stood at the door. Finally, he had an important assignment, and he wouldn't let his superior officers down.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"What are we going to do now," Vivien asked as she moved around their prison like a tiger in a cage. She was still shackled with her hands behind her back. "Sam, what is going on? Who are these people and what do they want from us? Why are they doing this?" With each question, she picked up her pace. Her breath quickened and she stopped in the middle of the cell, staring at him.

During her tirade, Sam sat on a cot that was surprisingly comfortable, considering their surroundings. He was able to soften the blow of falling to his side by using his elbow, and then he completely collapsed onto the blankets. It felt too good to resist. He closed his eyes.

"Sam! Sam, are you okay?" Vivien was beside him in an instant, kneeling on the cold dirt floor. "Talk to me, Sam. Please."

He opened his eyes just enough to see her through slits. "I'm fine. Just wiped out."

She leaned forward and briefly pressed her forehead to his. "Sam, you're warm. Maybe if you're sick we can use that as an excuse to get out of here."

"No, it won't work. They're not going to just let us go. And even if I'd given them that password, they wouldn't let us just walk out of here. Anson will get what he wants and then kill me. It's as simple as that."

"And you're going to just lay there and let him do it? Sam, I thought you were better than that!"

He smiled. "You hardly know me. And who said I was going to just lie here and take it?" With a little exhalation, he slowly pulled his left arm away from his body. The shackle fell with a soft clink onto its mate that was still attached to his wrist.

"Sam!" Vivien stifled the sound that expelled from her lips.

His smile turned into a grin as he sat up and held up a thin flat piece of metal. "I'm glad I kept this little thing I used to pick the lock on that gun case. Although I was really sweatin' it when they patted me down. I thought for sure they would find it."

"I don't think I even want to know where you had it hidden," Vivien remarked with a faint blush, and Sam responded with a laugh.

With his hands before him, Sam easily picked the lock and freed himself from the other shackle on his wrist, then worked on Vivien's bindings. "So, the next time our guards come in, pretend you're still locked up."

Vivien nodded. "And then we bring our hands out, do some serious damage on them, and escape, right?"

"Not so fast, sister. I'm hoping that when they bring in the chow they don't try to unlock us."

She gave him a strange look. "Why not? That would be pretty cruel, to give us a meal and no way to eat it."

"Do you really think they're going to be nice about it?"

She thought it over for a few seconds. "Yeah, I guess you're right. So, what's your plan?" She sat beside him on the cot and gave him her full attention.

"My guess is that Anson has probably ordered this guy not to have too much contact with us, so the guards will just deliver our meals and get out. They may or may not come back for the trays. If you see silverware, you know they're coming back, because they're not going to leave potential weapons alone with us for too long." He paused. "If there are no utensils, they're expecting us to be here for the rest of the night without interruption. Unless the General decides he wants to grill me some more for that password."

"Somehow I've got the feeling he's not going to bother. He'll have somebody try to figure it out for him."

"Only he won't be able to do it because it's ten random letters and digits that even I can't always remember! If he tries three times and fails, on the fourth attempt...pppfft, fried hard drive."

"Wow, that's pretty risky for you if you ever did forget it."

"Yeah." He put his arm around her shoulders, leaned close and whispered, "The documents I have on that drive could be dangerous in Anson's hands. I've dug up stuff on him that...well, I'm not going to tell you any more. I don't want to risk your life in this. It's bad enough you're in the position you're in now."

"What, with your arm around me?" She smiled sweetly. "It's not so bad, Sam."

"No, it's not, is it," he replied as he felt a spark of something travel from his head to his toes.

They were interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock. His eyes widened, and Sam rasped, "Quick, put your hands behind your back!"

Vivien complied and pushed her shackles behind her body. Two guards glanced at the prisoners and noticed how closely they sat together. They entered with two trays and set them on a small table in the center of the room, then quickly left. Jedediah gave them a longer glance and grinned. "Bon appetite, ya'll," he drawled as he closed and locked the door again.

"No silverware," Viven whispered as she stared at the trays. "You were right, Sam."

They approached the table and sat on opposite sides, leaning in such a way that the guards couldn't see that their wrists were free. It would be easy enough to assume they successfully threaded their legs through their bound arms to get to this position. A guard glanced in and looked at them, but he didn't seem to be alarmed, so they breathed a sigh of relief.

"Question is," Vivien said as she poked at what looked like meatloaf on her plate, "Is this safe to eat? I mean, did they drug it or poison it or something?"

"I don't know, and frankly, right now I'm so hungry I don't even care. I know I should, but I don't." He picked up a french fry. "You know, I'm thinking they didn't have fries in the 19th century." He sniffed it, licked it, and he didn't fall over dead, so... "Oh well, here goes."

Vivien watched with fascination and amusement at his actions. "I don't really care if they had fries in the 19th century. I just want to eat something substantial. You know it's been almost 24 hours since I've had anything decent?"

"Me too," Sam replied around a mouthful of meat. "Okay, for prison food this isn't so bad. Or maybe I'm just really hungry."

She laughed and grabbed a couple fries. "I have to agree with you. But I guess it was too much to hope for some fresh veggies or something. Now that would be more appropriate finger food."

"Hey, why feed us something nutritious if they're going to just put us through the wringer later and kill us?" He noted the sudden change in Vivien's expression. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so...cavalier... about it."

"It's okay. I guess I'm not used to having my life on the line every day."

"Well, it's not like it's every day, but okay, I've had more than my share of life-threatening situations. You develop a gallows humor about it if you're not careful. Or you go crazy. Your choice."

"Okay, I think now I understand why they don't let women become SEALs."

Sam chuckled. "So I take it you're withdrawing your application?"

Vivien laughed with him. "Yeah. I'll just stick to my nice, safe job at the naval hospital. If and when we get out of here. This situation has given me more adventure than I want for awhile."

They fell into silence and ate their meal. It wasn't much, but after having nothing for so long, it satisfied their hunger much better than the pitiful rations in the cabin. They washed it down with cool, clear water.

"Ahhh, spring water," Vivien sighed as she drained her cup.

"You're a water connoisseur?"

She shook her head and laughed. "No, my grandma had a farm in northern Michigan and they lived on water from a spring. It doesn't have a flavor, but there's something about it, you just know where it came from. If this is from around here, whoever built this fort found a good place for it."

"Except for the fact that it's so remote, which is good for them, bad for us." Sam stood and made his way to a window at the back of the cell. He looked out and saw nothing but stockade fence. A tree's limbs dipped over it and down. They were high up, but low enough for someone to reach up, scramble across the limb, and drop over the other side of the fence. He whispered, "Hey Viv, come here."

"What?" She spoke softly so the guards wouldn't hear.

He put his arm around her shoulder and pointed her toward the branches. "Look at that. A perfect escape route. We just need to find the right time to break out and get to it."

"If we wait until dark...we don't know what's on the other side of that fence!"

"I'm well aware of that. But it's the only chance we've got. If the General doesn't get into that laptop by dawn, you can bet he's not going to care what Anson says. He'll deal with us, or at least me, himself."

"So, what do we do until then?"

"We rest." He squeezed her shoulders and walked back to the cot. "Try to get some sleep, Viv."

She nodded and lay on the cot underneath the window. Sam took the one he lay on before and tried to get comfortable. His head was pounding and his stomach felt unsettled. Too much. He'd eaten too much too quickly, and now he would pay for it. Yet he managed to doze off, and when he awoke he felt a lot better. His strength was back. And even better, it was dark outside.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Vivien, wake up." Sam whispered near her ear.

She didn't respond, and suddenly Sam worried. He found her hand hanging over the edge of the cot and felt for her pulse, and he sighed in relief when he felt it beat strong. He laid her hand on her torso, touched her shoulder gently, and tried again.

"Vivien...wake up!"

"Mmmm, Alex," she mumbled as she rolled toward him, planted her hand behind his head and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

Sam was astounded. He'd never had a woman take possession of his mouth like this. He was used to doing the possessing. He pushed against her, mumbling her name until she took in a deep breath through her nose, pulled away and whispered, "Oh my...Sam. What did I just..."

"No time to discuss it. We need to move now." He kept his voice low. "There's only one guard out there, and he's been snoring for a while. I unlocked the door using my handy dandy little lock picker, so all we have to do is leave. Come on, let's go."

He gave her little time to be embarrassed over her mistake. She got off the cot and tiptoed to the door with him, wondering what he must have thought of her and trying to push that thought out of her head at the same time. It was so dark, only a few waning fires dotted the promenade near the tents, and their light didn't make it as far as the cell. They would have plenty of cover.

The door squeaked a little when Sam pushed it forward. He stopped, gauging if it was wide enough for them to sneak out. Just a few more inches and they would have room to slip away. Unfortunately, this required stepping sideways past the sleeping guard. Sam went first and Vivien followed. Her heel brushed the side of his britches, and the guard struck out to slap away whatever it was that tried to disturb him. Fortunately, Vivien had good reflexes. She jumped out of the way before he made contact. In the faint light, she saw Sam give her the thumbs up, and then he took her hand and ran with her around to the back of the building. He felt along the fence until he found the branches hanging overhead.

It was even darker behind the jail, so there was no way to communicate other than by voice or touch. Sam tapped her shoulder, crouched down to lift her leg by the knee, and made a motion as if he were going to give her a boost up. She tapped him twice on the shoulder, settled her hands on his back for balance, and gave him her foot. With one movement he launched her up to the branch. She snagged it and the leaves rustled. Sam grabbed the end and stabilized it so she could hang by her knees and hands and make her way over to the top of the fence. When she was there, he heard a soft 'oof' as she landed on her feet on the other side. Now it was his turn.

Sam took a different tactic in getting over the fence. Since he was taller and more able to grasp the branch at a higher point, he got closer to the fence, crouched to build up some energy in the branch, and jumped up. The branch swung high enough to allow him to reach out and grab the top of the fence. With one leg over the top, he threw himself over and down to the ground. Without a moment to lose, he found Vivien, placed his hands around her waist, and pushed her forward toward the acreage behind the fort.

"Sam, where are we going?" She whispered to him as she fought back against the brush and small branches that snapped in her way.

"We're going away from the road, because that's where they'll expect us to go, to take the easy route."

It was slow going through the forest, not being able to see anything. Sam gained a new appreciation for what blind people went through, because not being able to see any hazards was frustrating, to say the least. It seemed as if they'd run for a mile, but when Sam looked back, he could still see the glow from the fires.

"We're not gaining much ground," he muttered. "We've got to try to move faster!"

By the time a shout went up that the prisoners had escaped, they had some good distance between them and the fort, and it was far too dark for anyone to go searching for them in the blackness that was so thick, Sam felt he could catch it and store it in a jar. Somehow, they found a dirt path, and it led to a stream.

"I hear water, Sam," Vivien whispered and grabbed one of the hands that still held her around the waist.

"Me too," he replied. "Not a moment too soon, because I could sure use a drink."

Vivien's foot splashed in the brook and she jumped back into Sam with a gasp. "I think I found it!" She laughed. "Now I've got a wet foot. Come on, it's right here." She led him by the hand until they both knelt at the edge. "Better just try a little first, to make sure it's not off tasting."

"Tastes like well water," Sam said as he sampled a little from his hand.

"Yeah, a bit of iron in it, but that's okay." They bent over and scooped handfuls of it until they were satisfied.. "That'll have to last us for awhile."

"I think we should follow the creek upstream," Sam suggested.

"Why?"

"Well, it could be that we got all twisted and turned around in here, but on the off chance we didn't, the county road and that town should be off to our right somewhere."

"If there even was a town."

"Yeah, that's true." Sam reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Damn, lost another one. See what I mean? They keep getting confiscated, destroyed, or traced. It's..."

"Shh, Sam,I hear something!"

Someone was moving up the trail toward them. "Let's get off this path," Sam spoke so softly, she barely heard him. With his hand around her waist, he led her into some brush, trying not to create too much noise. As they waited as still as possible, they spied a faint glow coming from a kerosene lantern. In its soft light, they saw a man getting ever closer, carrying a double barrel shotgun and the lantern. A floppy-eared coonhound trotted along beside him sniffing the ground. The dog stopped, sniffed the ground intently, and whined.

"You find something, Redbone?" The dog whined louder.

"Oh crap, he's locked onto us," Sam's voice was barely audible as he took a step back. His foot brushed against something that seemed to be hidden in the dead leaves, and he sidestepped it.

Vivien followed his movements, but she wasn't so lucky. Something clamped around her ankle, they heard bone snapping, and as she fell back onto the cushioned forest floor, she cried out loud enough to get the dog howling.

"Vivien!" Sam called out to her, but she didn't answer. He dropped to the ground and ran his hands around like a crazy man trying to find her, until the man brought his lantern and his gun up near Sam's head.

"Well, look what we found, Red. Company!"

"Please mister, don't shoot," Sam pleaded as calmly as he could. "My friend...I think she got caught in a trap."

"Yep, that'd be one 'o mine," he said as he held up the lantern and took in the sight of the woman lying on the ground. "That's a bear trap. You better watch out, 'cause I got a few more of 'em 'round here somewheres."

Sam picked up his hands and stayed on his knees. "Thanks for the warning." He turned, and now that he had light, he could see Vivien lying still on the ground, unconscious. He cautiously leaned over her, assessing her for injuries besides the one created by the trap. He found a flat rock underneath her head and when he put his hand there, it came away wet with blood. "We've got to get her out of here."

"My cabin's about a quarter mile down this path. Y'all can stay there a spell and get her doctored up." He put the lantern on the ground and pressed a few places on the bear trap. It took some muscle, but he got it off her ankle. "She's bleedin' pretty good there. Bear traps can take a man's foot clean off if you step on 'em the wrong way. She got lucky."

Sam snorted. "You have no idea!" He pulled at the buttons of his shirt and stripped it from his body. Good thing he wore a t-shirt underneath or he would be even colder than he was. Without thinking what it would do to his precious hawaiian shirt, he rolled it into a bandage and wrapped her ankle with it. "Okay, now if I pick her up and step over to that path, I'm not gonna wind up trapped myself, am I?"

"No sir, I don't keep the traps that close to the path, just for this reason. This was some kind of fluke, I swear!"

"Well, I suppose it could have happened to anybody," Sam agreed. He picked up Vivien in his arms and was surprised how light she was. "Okay, let's go."

"Alrighty, just follow me, mister. Come on, Red, let's take our guests home."

Sam really didn't want to trust this guy, considering how close they were to the fort, but with Vivien being injured, he really didn't have a choice. He seemed nice enough, and apologetic for his trap being the cause of their accident.

"Hey, what's your name," Sam asked.

"Harvey. Harvey Linden. Just like the trees." He looked over his shoulder and smiled at Sam, and he could see a few teeth missing, but there was a friendly sparkle in his eyes.

"My name's Sam. And this is Vivien."

"Nice to meet you, Sam. Sorry it had to be under such unfortunate circumstances. But we'll get Vivien back to my place, and the wife'll patch her up real good. She's got a gift for doctorin'."

"Well, thanks, but all I need are some supplies, and I can take care of her." He thought about the duffel bag that the capturing party left behind on the side of the road, along with all their other things. They were so focused on the laptop and their prisoners, they didn't care about anything else. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on those supplies right now!

Harvey led the way into the small cabin. A fancy kerosene lamp hanging over a round table lit up the main room, and a woman sat underneath it. "Harve! I was beginnin' to wonder 'bout ya. Where ya been?" She stood and approached, then stopped at the sight of Sam entering the room with Viviean draped over his arms. Her head was slung back and her blood painted his forearm scarlet.

"Is there someplace I can lay her down," Sam asked as he nodded at the woman behind Harvey.

"Sure! Put her on this cot over hear near the wood stove." She pulled back the covers. They appeared to be clean and crisp from being starched.

"Thanks." He bent over the cot and gently laid Vivien on it. He left his arm in place behind her head and asked, "Have you got something to catch this bleeding?"

She quickly returned with a clean cloth, folded it into thirds so it was thick enough to soak up the blood, and settled it in the right place on the pillow as Sam lowered Vivien's head.

"What happened to her?"

"She got caught in one of my bear traps, Liza."

"Oh, you and those darn traps, Harve! I told ya this would happen some day. Good thing it wasn't one of those damn fool rebels running around these woods!"

"Well, maybe if they wandered into one of them, they'd stay away from our property," Harvey replied haughtily.

"You know about the fort?"

"Yeah, those people are crazy," Harvey answered as he set his gun up on a couple of pegs over the door and set the lock on the door in place. "They're always playin' them war games, takin' people prisoner...they're nuts!"

"I couldn't agree with you more," Sam responded with a slight smile. "They captured us yesterday, and we got away tonight."

"What'd they want with you?"

Sam shook his head. "It's not important. But what is, is for me to take a look at Vivien's injuries, see what we can do without trying to get through these woods to a hospital."

"Ain't no hospital around here for about fifty miles," Liza said. "That's why I got good at doctorin'. People need help around here, they come to me." She smiled and moved to a cabinet. "And you're in luck, Harve just picked up a whole bunch of new supplies for me today."

Sam gaped as Liza opened a cabinet and withdrew the red duffel bag with the white cross on it. "Where'd you find that?"

"Out on the side of the road. Somebody just left it there!"

"Harvey, how far away is that road?"

"A few miles. You're not gonna get her out to that road in the dark. These woods are full of big cats and coyotes. They'll get you good before you get ten feet out the door. Only by the grace of God did I come along at the right time, or you two mighta been critter fodder."

"Thanks, Harvey. We appreciate it. The only critters we were really worried about were the ones following us from the fort."

"I don't know why they'd be holdin' a nice lookin' couple like you, but hey, as far as I'm concerned, any enemy of theirs is a friend of mine. Don't worry, Sam, we'll keep you and Miss Vivien safe!" He held out his hand.

Sam took it, grateful for the support. "Now, if you'll let me have access to that bag, I can take care of Vivien."

"Are you sure?" Liza looked at him warily.

Sam gave her one of his trademark smiles, the kind that seemed to make women turn to jelly. "Ma'am, I know what I'm doing. I was a Navy SEAL for over 20 years, and I had special field medical training. I can take care of this."

"I didn't know the Navy used animals for training," Harvey said in wonder.

Sam shook his head. "No, that's not...never mind."

He reached for the bag that Liza set on the floor beside the cot, and he quickly went to work on stopping the bleeding at the base of Vivien's skull. The ankle seemed to be under control, so he saved that for last. When he finally stabilized her with fluids from an IV and covered her with a blanket to keep her from going into shock, the sun was starting to come up over a ridge and pierce through the trees. He splinted her ankle, not liking the bluish purple bruising radiating around the area where the iron clamped onto her. It was swelling, so he wrapped it lightly, and Liza put a cold compress on it with some herbs she swore would fight off infection.

"Thanks, Liza."

"You want some coffee, Sam?" Somewhere during this encounter, Harvey introduced them, but Sam was too focused on Vivien to pay much attention.

"What I need is some sleep, but I need to stay awake, so yeah, coffee would be good. Thanks." He checked Vivien's pulse and respiration before sitting at the table in the center of the common area. The wood stove lent a warmth to the room that took out the overnight chill. In his short sleeve t-shirt, he was cold.

"Here, put this on," Harvey said and gave Sam a flannel shirt to wear. "I think it might fit ya."

"Thank you...again. You don't know how grateful Viv and I are for your kindness and hospitality." Sam shrugged into the shirt and was pleased that it fit quite nicely. He left it open and accepted the cup from Liza.

"You could get some sleep in our room," Liza said as she worked at the stove.

"No, thanks. I want to make sure Vivien's okay before I get any shut-eye."

"Suit yourself," Liza shrugged. She set a cast iron skillet onto the hot stove and let it heat up. "Where are you two from, anyway? Mister? Sam?"

"Shhhh," Harvey whispered.

She turned and discovered Sam's head lay over his crossed arms. His coffee cup sat untouched, and he was fast asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Harvey went out to chop some wood, and Liza prepared enough breakfast for four, just in case their guests decided to eat something. She checked on Vivien, resting a rough hand on her forehead to check for fever, when Vivien opened her eyes. She saw Liza and gasped, and she sat up straight in bed. The room tilted. To keep herself from falling back onto the mattress, she leaned against the wall.

With chest sucking in deep breaths, Vivien asked, "Who are you? Where am I? Sam? Where's Sam?"

Liza smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, honey. He's right over there, sound asleep." She turned her head so Vivien could see Sam's form slouched over the table. "I wanted to get 'im off to bed, but Harve said it was best if we jes left 'im there. I guess he was right. Seein' him put ya at ease, din't it?" Her smile widened. "My name's Liza. You 'n yer boyfriend there kinda stumbled into one 'o Harve's traps last night, and he brought y'all here t' get ya fixed up and rested."

"He's...he's not my boyfriend," Vivien muttered, remembering the dream she had that ended with her kissing Sam in a most embarrassing fashion. Her cheeks flushed at the memory, and Liza nodded with a smirk. "No, really, he isn't!" She grabbed her head with one hand. "I don't know why I'm even bothering..." She noticed the IV line running from her to a bag hanging over her head. "Who did this?"

"Why, your sweetheart, Sam. Harve found yer stuff on the road yesterday afternoon and brought it here. There was things in this bag I din't even know how ta use, but he did." She leaned closer and said, "Honey, if he ain't yer boyfriend, I sure would rethink that. He's a real carin' fella. Din't want ta go ta sleep til he knew you was okay." She shook her head. "Poor guy, he shore tried, but he was out like a light in no time after he got ya settled."

Vivien eyed Sam and felt a new appreciation for a man who, approximately thirty-six hours earlier, was a stranger to her. How their paths crossed, it wasn't just fate. She knew he was sent to be her guardian angel. "How is he? He had a head injury from when the plane crashed in the woods."

"Yer plane crashed?"

"Yeah." Vivien told Liza about their adventure from the time their plane took off until she woke up in Harvey and Liza's cabin. Liza listened to her, her eyes widening when she mentioned the re-enactors and how they were treated in their custody.

Liza shook her head. "I knew them boys was crazy, but that jes tops it. They come 'round here now 'n then with raiding parties, tryin' ta steal stuff from us. I tell ya, it's just some excuse for them to get away from their wives fer awhile and act crazy."

"They aren't there all the time?"

"No, jest on the weekends."

"But it's..." Her brow furrowed. "What day is it, anyway?"

"It's Tuesday." Liza's brow furrowed. "It is kinda strange fer them to be there durin' the week."

"Oh." Viven's head spun again, and she slowly sank to the pillow. "What exactly happened to me?"

Liza gave her all the details of what she heard from Harvey. As she finished, her husband came flying through the door with a small load of wood that he dumped into the hopper. He quickly closed the door, and in two steps he was over to Sam's side and shook his shoulder.

"Sam! Sam, wake up! They're comin' fer ya!"

"Wha...what? Harve?"

"Them crazy boys from the fort! They musta tracked ya here!"

"Oh no, where are we going to go," Viven asked as she sat up and saw spots dancing before her eyes.

Before she could collapse onto the cot again, Sam was by her side and scooped her into his arms. "Harve, is there some place we can hide until they're gone?"

"You betcha, Sam. Look out." Harve grabbed the table with both hands and pulled it back a few feet.

Liza flipped back a floor rug, and a trap door lay underneath. She pulled on the bronze handle and spoke with urgency. "Take 'er down there. Ya'll be safe if ya hide in the shadows. Go on!"

Sam quickly shifted Vivien over his shoulder, snagged the IV bag from a nail on the wall, and carried her downstairs. Liza followed with a lantern.

"Okay, now you jest get behind these barrels here, and they'll never see ya if they come down here. I promise." She gave him a smile and hurried back upstairs.

Meanwhile, Harvey made the cot up so it looked as if it had never been slept in. He grabbed Sam's coffee cup, dumped the cold coffee, and put it in the sink. Liza closed the trap door, replaced the rug, and she and Harvey moved the table back to its original spot. By the time the search party knocked on their door, they looked like any other mountain residents about ready to have their breakfast.

They pounded on the door, and Harvey got up from his plate of eggs and grits and answered it. He saw the frustration in their expressions and his changed to one of boredom. "Oh, it's you fellas again. What d'ya want this time?"

"We're looking for two people, a man and a woman."

With a straight face, Harvey replied, "Well, we're a man and a woman. I know ya ain't lookin' fer us."

"Funny guy. These are the people we're lookin' for." He held up two photographs, one of a smiling Vivien and the other, a picture of Sam from his service days.

"Nice lookin' folks. So what you want with 'em? Can't imagine they did nothin' worth huntin' 'em down fer."

"Never mind. It's none of your business."

"Well, 'Major' Stephens." Harvey smirked. "Speakin' of business, how's the hardware store these days?"

The major, the same man who originally captured Sam and Vivien, bristled at Harvey's mocking tone. "That's not important! We want those people, and if I find out you've got 'em, Harve...you're gonna be sorry." He turned to his men. "Tear the place apart. They've gotta be here somewhere. Check the barn, the outhouse, everything! I want them found!"

"The outhouse? Really, Stephens?" Harvey chuckled. "I think you done gone 'round the bend, my friend."

"I'm not your friend."

"No, I guess not. Not any more." Harvey looked at him with sad eyes. He turned when he heard Liza screech. One of the men grasped her roughly by the arms and threw her out of her chair.

"Sir, there's a trap door down here!"

"Well, open it up and search for them!"

Down below, Sam heard the commotion through the floorboards. He had to hand it to Harve, how he talked to the major so calmly and casually. He suspected this wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with this nutjob. Light bled along the ceiling as the trap door opened, and Sam ducked farther down into the shadows behind the barrels. Viven stirred, and he placed a finger over her lips to discourage her from speaking. Neither of them moved as two men raced around the small cellar looking for their quarry. Mason jars clicked as one of them looked behind a shelving unit stacked high with them. The other was so close, Sam could hear his labored breathing. He held his own breath, hoping they would both leave soon.

Sam saw a shadow on the wall and he carefully turned his eyes to look up. The man was two feet away looking down, peering into the shadows, and Sam stayed perfectly still. It seemed like hours, but it was only a few seconds, and then he was gone. He didn't dare exhale until their footsteps retreated up the steps and the trap door closed on them.

"Sam, are they done?"

"I sure hope so," he breathed.

"I haven't been this scared in a long time," Viven whispered as she clung to him. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You probably wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me."

"Maybe. But since I am, well, I could have wound up with someone less...capable. Thank God it was you." She pulled him closer until his warmth soaked into her cold body.

He realized she was getting chilled, and perhaps shocky. That's why she was saying the things she was saying and holding him like this. He wrapped his limbs around her merely for her, to give her warmth. He'd be a liar if he said he didn't like it. Sam wasn't one to take advantage of a woman in peril, and he wasn't about to start. But oh, it was so difficult! Her soft breath caressed his cheek. Only a few millimeters, and he could capture her lips with his. He couldn't...He shouldn't...He wouldn't.

"Who's Alex?" Vivien stiffened in his arms. He couldn't see her expression in the dark, but he could guess.

"Alex...is my ex-fiance." She let out a sigh. "He was the real reason I transferred to Bethesda. He wanted me closer, so he wouldn't have to worry about me on a ship in the Persian Gulf or someplace dangerous." She paused, and he could hear the sadness in her voice. "But when my transfer came through, and I was there, he wanted me to move in with him, and...everything just fell apart after that." She began to cry softly.

"Oh, Viv, I'm sorry," Sam whispered and held her closer. Her hands clung to his shoulder blades as she cried into his chest. The flannel was getting wet, but he didn't care. He simply cradled her and let her get it out.

The trap door opened and Harvey called down. "Sam, Vivien, it's safe to come out now! They're long gone!"

"Okay, we're coming." Sam gently disengaged himself from her and helped her stand on her good leg. "You okay to do that?"

"Yeah." She sniffled and swayed a little.

Sam shook his head. "No way, you're not passing out on me half way up the stairs. Come on, Viv." He gave her the IV bag. "You hang onto this. I've got you." Without a word of protest, he picked her up and carried her up the narrow steps. He didn't stop until she was safely back in bed with the covers tucked around her.

"She looks feverish," Liza said as she brought over a cool cloth for her forehead.

"Yeah. She was shivering down there." Sam used the cloth to swipe away the remaining traces of tears before placing it on her forehead. She watched him and smiled at his light touch. He spoke softly. "Just rest, Viv."

"I will. Thanks, Sam."

"My pleasure." His smile widened, and for a moment, he looked as if he might kiss her. He settled for a caress of her face. Then he stood. "Well Harve, I could go for that cup of coffee now." He turned to Vivien. "Actually, a beer or a mojito would be nice after all that, but I'm kind of limited here, ya know?" He winked at her, and she chuckled.

"Oh, you want somethin' stronger, we got that, Sam," Harvey said with a wink.

"Seriously, no. I need to stay sharp." Sam sat at the table where Liza placed a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, toast and grits. "Thanks, Liza. This looks...great." He never liked grits, but right now, he wasn't in a position to refuse anything.

"I ain't one of them fancy cooks, but it'll get ya through ta lunch time."

"Viv, you want anything to eat?" Sam turned and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be asleep. "Guess not."

"I'll keep somethin' warm for her later," Liza said as she glanced at the other woman.

"Thanks. You two have really gone above and beyond." Sam glanced at both of them and asked, "Why?"

"Like I said, Sam, anybody who's an enemy of those boys is a friend of ours. We don't know what they're up to out there, but it don't never seem to be anythin' good. And when we see folks in trouble, we just wanna help. It's the Christian thing t'do, after all."

"Well, we couldn't have been more lucky to stumble upon you both."

"It weren't luck, Sam."

He eyed Liza. "What do you mean?"

"Yer good people, and ya don't deserve ta fall into the hands of them hooligans. I believe it was the angels who sent ya here fer protection." She smiled at him in a most disarmingly peaceful way. "When Vivien's a little better, Harve can take ya into town. Until then, ya should be safe here. Those boys won't come 'round again."

"You've been through this before?"

"Not as far as hidin' folks, but they've come 'round looking for stuff. When they don't find what they want, they leave us alone. Til they're lookin' fer somethin' else."

"Nice neighbors."

"Sam, nobody said this world would be a walk in the park," Harve said with a grin. "So we jest put up with 'em. Besides, we were here first."

Sam shook his head. "You know, if I could just get a hold of my friend Mike, I bet we could come up with a way to get them to stop harassing people around here."

"I can get ya into town and ya can use a phone there. Y'know how to ride?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

When Harvey asked him if he knew how to ride, Sam was hoping he meant something motorized, but he had the sinking feeling that it would be something more along the lines of four footed. He was right. He stood in the middle of the barn with Harvey as the man saddled up two horses.

"Harve, the last time I rode something with four legs, it was a burro in Columbia, and I had my hands up in the air. It wasn't pretty."

"Well, I better let ya have Sadie then. She's more gentle." Harvey grinned. He handed the reins to Sam and he took the other horse.

"I guess what I mean is, I've never had any real training on how to ride," he said, eyeing the chestnut mare who turned and eyed him back.

"Don't worry, Sam. She won't throw ya. I guarantee it!" He sat astride his horse waiting. "Come on, time's a wastin'."

"Yeah." Sam put his foot in the stirrup and mounted without trouble. After a few instructions from Harvey, he felt more confident. "Okay, I'm ready. Ready as I'll ever be."

They rode along a path that took them farther away from the fort, and as Sam suspected, the road was east north east of where they found themselves. Once they were on the road, it was easier riding to the town. However, unlike what Jedediah had said, Prescott was more like ten miles away. They would never have been able to walk it in a day. As they rode to the general store, where Harvey said they had a phone he could use, Sam kept his eyes roving and watching the townspeople. No one gave him a second look, much less a first, except for a couple people who greeted Harvey. They nodded in a friendly way toward Sam, and he responded in kind. It was better to act like he belonged here, or risk someone blabbing to the guys at the fort about the stranger in town.

They stopped their horses at a rail in front of the store and dismounted. "Wow, I didn't think things like this existed outside the movies," Sam declared softly as he and Harvey tied up the horses.

"Yep, some of us live way out in the boonies, and horses are how we git in 'n out. Gotta have some place to keep 'em while we do our business."

Sam's eyes took in the old single story shops along the main street. Directly in front of him was Stephens Hardware Store. "Harve..."

"It's okay, Sam. Andy Stephens is too busy with his boys right now. His cousin, the only sane one in the family, pretty much runs it himself." He took a step up to the board sidewalk. "He ain't gonna rat on ya, 'cause he and Andy get along like oil an' water."

"Okay." Sam let out a breath. "Now, where's that phone?"

"I'll do some shoppin' in here while you talk t' yer friend, okay?" Harvey led him to an office in the back. It was empty. "Jest come on out when yer done."

"Thanks." Sam dialed Mike's number on the rotary phone and waited impatiently for him to pick up. All the while he hoped that he wasn't on a party line and that someone was listening in.

"Hello," Michael answered plainly.

"Mike, it's Sam."

"Sam, where are you? Jesse and I have been worried sick about you! My Ma's been calling your phone non-stop for two days! Two days, Sam! Where the hell are you?"

"Easy, Mike. Is that any way to talk to a guy who survived a plane crash?"

"What? Where did this happen? There wasn't anything on the news about a plane crash in DC."

"It wasn't in DC. It was out in the middle of a state park in Tennessee. About ten, twelve miles south of a little town called Prescott." He paused. "Mike, I think Anson had something to do with this crash. I don't know if he was trying to take me out, or just make my life difficult so I wouldn't get to DC and find out where Fi was..." He let out a deep breath after running full steam. "I don't know. All I know is that there were nine passengers on that plane and two crew members, and they're all dead, Mike, except me and this woman, Vivien Chase."

"Vivien Chase, the author?"

"You've heard of her, Mike? Why am I the only one who never heard of her before now? Ah, never mind. The point is, Viv and I are hiding out from these whack jobs at a fort. They're Civil War re-enactors, and I think Anson's using them too."

"Sam, did you hit your head?"

"Yeah, I got a slight concussion, but Mike, listen to me! This is for real! These guys confiscated my phone, my laptop, my wallet, everything. They wanted the intel I had on my hard drive."

"Which is probably fried by now," Michael interjected.

"Oh yeah, no doubt. Too bad, I liked that laptop, too." He shrugged. "So anyway, Mike, I'm not sure who I can trust out here. I mean, what happens if Viv and I make it to DC? If Anson's got these yokels in his pocket, who else is he controlling?" Sam heard a click. "Mike?"

"I heard that, Sam." To be on the safe side, Michael suddenly started speaking Russian as he revealed his plan.

Sam's Russian was rusty, but he got the gist of what Michael was saying. He replied in the language. "Yeah, we'll sit tight until you get here. I'm going to try to get a burn phone in town, and I'll call you to give you our coordinates in 24 hours."

"By then Jesse and I should be there. Maybe we'll get lucky and have reinforcements."

"That would be good, Mike. We're dealing with a bunch of crazies out here." He paused. "And Mike? These people are hillbillies, so dress appropriately."

"Will do. Talk to you later, Sam."

"You too, Mike. You don't know how good it is to hear your voice."

"Thanks. You too, Sam." The relief in Mike's voice was evident.

Sam hung up the phone, sighed heavily, and exited the office. He found Harvey talking to the shopkeeper behind the counter.

"Here he is." Harvey grinned. "How'd everthin' go?"

"I got a hold of my friend. He's got a plan, and it's a go." He turned to the shopkeeper. "Say, do you know where I can get a burn phone around here?"

"A...burn...phone?"

"Yeah, a disposable cell phone."

"Oh, I got some 'o them." He bent down and rifled around behind the counter. "Don't get many people askin' for 'em, so I don't put 'em out."

"Doesn't have to be fancy, just as long as it works and it's got a charge."

"There ya go. It's twenty bucks with twenty minutes free. Ya need more, ya gotta buy a card."

Sam dug into his pocket. When he and Vivien were captured they took everything, including his cash. "Harve, can I borrow twenty bucks from you? I'm good for it, really!"

"Those guys took all your money too, huh?" Harvey shook his head and let out a deep groan. "I'm tellin' ya, Norb, somethin's gotta be done about them boys!"

"Well, maybe when Mike and Jesse arrive and we pull off our plan, we can make it so unfriendly here, they won't want to stick around." Sam smiled and his eyes sparkled with mischief. "If only Fi were with him. She'd blow that little fort to kingdom come, just for good measure."

"And where's this Fi?"

"I wish I knew. That's why I was headed to DC, to find out where she was and bring her home."

"Aw, so she's yer girl? Not Vivien?" Harvey questioned with raised eyebrows.

Sam laughed. "If only you knew how funny that is! No, she and Mike are in a relationship, and until we find her... He needs her, Harve."

"Well, if your plan works and gets them boys outta here..." Norb hesitated, then slid the phone across the counter to Sam. "You take that, no charge." Sam raised an eyebrow, and he reiterated. "Yeah, take it. If y'all can turn this into a peaceful place to live again, we'll be mighty grateful."

"Thank you, Norb. I appreciate it."

"Go get 'em, Commander." Norb, who was several years older than Sam, stood at attention and saluted him.

Sam returned the salute. "How'd you know?"

"Oh Harve told me ya told him about yer stint in the Navy, Sir."

"I see." Sam nodded. He would have to have a little talk with Harvey about confidentiality, although, he never did tell him to keep his mouth shut about what he'd revealed to him, so he couldn't fault the guy. Still, it was better to keep some things quiet. Sam held up the phone. "Thanks for the donation to the cause, Norb!"

"Yes, Sir. You go on and kick some ass, Sir!" He saluted Sam again, and Sam, with an amused smile on his face, returned it.

"We better get back to the cabin. I need to see if I can get a cell signal out there, and if I can't, figure out where I will get one along that path."

"You got it, Sam. I'm all set to go. See ya later, Norb!"


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

All the way back to the cabin, Sam checked the signal at regular intervals. He was pleased with the results. "I don't know why Viv and I couldn't get signals from our phones out near the crash site, but I'm having no trouble here." He stood inside the barn holding onto the plastic bags containing Harvey's purchases while Harvey unsaddled and groomed the horses after their ride.

"Maybe the cell tower was busted? That was a wicked storm we had the other night," Harvey replied. "'Twas one of them nights we was glad we didn't have no electricity hooked up to our house. Oil lamps work all the time, long as ya have oil in 'em."

"Well, there are some things you don't need oil lamps or electricity for on a night like that." Sam leered at him.

Harvey laughed. "Thats' very true, very true, Sam. 'Cept it's kinda hard to get snugglin' when the dog gets scared and jumps into bed with ya."

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam laughed. "I can also see how it'd be tough to get much technology out here," Sam said as he looked around the barn. "But I tell you, Harve, if you came to Miami, you'd be blown away I'm sure."

"We kinda like it this way. Our neighbors up the way," he pointed northwest. "Now, they got electric lights, gas heat and all that stuff. Cable TV. Internets. Cars, ATVs. You name it, they got it." He tossed the brush into a tool box, leaned against the stall, and crossed his arms in front of himself. "But I tell ya, Sam, they are some of the unhappiest people I done ever seen."

"Yeah. You can have everything and still want more. Then again, you can have nothing, and be incredibly happy. Me, I've always kind of been in the middle somewhere." He handed Harvey one of the bags, and he kept the other as they walked back to the little house. "I could enjoy this peace and quiet for awhile, but soon I'd be missing the excitement in Miami. All the bars, the clubs, the women..." He grinned.

Harvey gave Sam a sidelong glance. Despite the flash of his pearly whites, Harvey suspected that Sam wasn't as happy with things in Miami as he'd like to let on. He almost wished things were different, that there was no crisis with the fort, and that Sam and Vivien could spend more time here and relax. Civilization wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and he knew it. He'd been there once, and he was never so glad to run back to this beautiful Tennessee valley and the simple life it afforded.

Sam and Harvey entered the cabin and found Vivien sitting up in bed, working on a bowl of soup. "Hey, Sam."

"Viv, how are you doing?" He noted she'd regained some color.

"I'm doing okay. Still disoriented, having headaches and dizziness, but otherwise, not too worse for the wear."

Sam set the bag on the table and knelt beside the foot of her bed. He pulled back the covers and checked on her ankle. "How's this?" He checked the bandages. They were fresh.

"Liza took care of it for me. I had to ask her what those herbs were, because I tell you, Sam, they're working like a charm. I mean, look, there's hardly any swelling, and even the bruising is clearing up quickly."

"I see that." _But will you be able to run if necessary? Not likely._

"How did things go in town?"

He told her about his conversation with Michael and that he and Jesse were planning to be in town within 24 hours. "I'm getting a signal now, so I can call out when I need to."

"Thats's good news. Are you sure the three of you are going to be able to pull something off?"

"I don't know. Mike's the man with the plan. He said he'd fill me in more when I called him to give him the coordinates."

"And just how are you going to do that? You don't have a GPS."

"No, but Harvey's got a neighbor with a computer." Sam smiled.

"That's right. I'm gonna walk over there with Redbone, see if I can have 'em look it up. I'll be back in a little bit." Harvey left the cabin.

"Well, I need to get my washin' done. Will y'all be okay in here?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Thanks, Liza."

Liza hefted a large laundry basket full of clothes against her hip and walked to the back door. "Y'all be good now, y'hear?" She winked at the two and closed the door behind her.

Sam laughed and shook his head as he took a chair at the table. "I don't know what is with those two. It's like they're trying to get us together or something."

"Like that would be a bad thing?" Vivian mumbled behind the barrier of her soup bowl before slurping up the last of her meal.

"Did you say something?" He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees as he cocked an ear toward her.

"Nope. I didn't say anything."

"Uh huh." A cocked smile spread across his face as he leaned back into his chair, threw an arm over the back, and turned away. He absently traced a crack on the table surface for a few seconds, deep in thought, before turning back to her. "Viv, you're a great girl. I really like you..."

"Oh yeah, here it comes." She rolled her eyes.

"But...you're on the rebound. I've discovered that rebounding isn't a good ingredient in a solid relationship." He paused. "Not that I've had too many of those myself. Probably because I've been too busy bouncing from one bed and one woman to another."

"Well then, you'd be sorely disappointed in me, Sam. I'm a one-man woman." Her eyes pierced his. "I'm loyal to the bitter end, but I don't take kindly to other women taking what's mine." She blinked and turned her head toward the wall. "It's just sometimes there's no way to win...when..." She dropped the bowl in her lap and covered her face with both hands as she began to sob.

Sam looked away. He was never good with crying women, at least not the heart-wrenching sobbing mess that Vivien had become. But it hurt him inside to see her so distraught. He'd never felt that way before, and since it was such an alien emotion, he didn't know how to deal with it. He felt a pull toward her despite a small part of his brain screaming at him to escape. Finally, he got up, took the bowl from her and placed it on the table, and picked her up. He moved her to sit against the wall running along the length of the bed, and he sat beside her. Her head tilted and rested on his shoulder, and he touched her face, wiping away the tears.

Vivien moved her arm across his chest and he held onto it as he put his other arm around her. She looked up at him with eyes still brimming with tears. "I'm sorry, Sam. I...I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Sometimes people get out of sorts when they've had a head injury," he explained, but he really didn't believe that's what set her off. He looked down at her lips. They were just too inviting, and as he groaned and moved in to press his against hers, he knew he'd hate himself later for taking advantage of her.

If she were being taken advantage of, she certainly didn't act like it. She was surprised at first, but then she turned into the kiss, moved her hand from his shoulder to his jawline, touching him, urging him to continue. She moaned softly and slipped away to take a breath and smile, planting small kisses on his lips. "Oh Sam...I have to confess..."

"What," he asked, his voice a whisper.

"I've been wanting to do that ever since we chatted on the airplane."

"You have?" He pulled back to look at her intently.

"Yes. And when I kissed you in our prison, well, that was just a happy accident." She caressed his cheek and smiled. "I also have to confess, that even before you introduced yourself, I knew who you were."

"You did?" A part of him was beginning to get suspicious.

"Yes. And I have another confession to make, but first..." She turned her body so she sat in his lap and kissed him deeply. She couldn't stop until her breath came short and fast. She was glad that he accepted her and took what she gave. Vivien placed a hand over his heart and felt the fast beating there. She smiled, knowing that she'd done to him what he'd unwittingly done to her.

"You were saying, Viv?" He tilted his head against the wall and looked at her with passion in his eyes.

"My last confession...I'm not who you think I am."

He expression changed to one of confusion. "Who are you?"

"I am Lieutenant Vivien Chase, and I do work at Bethesda Naval Hospital. However, I'm also working with the CIA. Did you tell Michael about me?"

"Yeah, I did. He seemed to know you, but I thought because you're an author..."

She shook her head. "That's just my cover. I never wrote any of those books, although, I do have to admit I have a bit of a talent for that sort of thing."

"How does Mike know about you? Have you worked with him?"

"We might have had a mission in the Middle East awhile ago, but I cannot either confirm or deny such a thing happened." She replied with a smug expression. "You know the drill, Sam."

"Yes, I do." Suddenly, he felt like he was the one being taken advantage of, and not the other way around. He pushed her legs off his and got up, pacing the room. "Viv... if that's your real name..."

"It is."

"Okay, Viv, tell me what the hell is going on. Was this plane crash part of some plan?" He came back to the bed and stood over her with a sense of distrust and betrayal in his eyes.

Vivien blinked, sorry that she had put those feelings there. "Sam, the plane crash had nothing to do with my mission. But I was on that plane for a reason." She paused. "Please believe me. I was there because I was ordered to help you find Fiona."

"What?" The word came out on a pained whisper. "Why didn't you say so? Why tell me now?"

"There wasn't really a good time."

"At the cabin you could have come clean. Maybe then I would have been more likely to believe you!" He straightened and turned away from her, his hands on his hips as he moved about the room.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I should have sat down next to you while we were in the air and told you, but I wasn't sure how you would take it."

"I would have been glad for the help, that's how I would take it." He threw his hands up in the air as he walked and let them fall to his sides. "Now...now I don't know...I don't know what to think about you, about this mission..." He let out a deep sigh and moved to the door. "I'm going out for some fresh air."

"Sam, please don't be mad at me. I'm s..." But it was too late. He was already out the door and walking away from the cabin.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_Who are you? Who are you really, Miss Vivien?_ Sam walked out to the front yard and stood staring at the trees around him. He felt completely lost, unsure of anything anymore. Without the information on the hard drive and those files, he was dead in the water as far as finding Fiona. And now Vivien dropped this bombshell on him. _What am I supposed to do?_ He wished he were back in Miami, in Michael's loft, where he could whale on the punching bag for a little while and get out his frustrations. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a stump with an axe stuck into it. _It'll do._

"Hey Sam, thanks for choppin' up the wood!"

Sam brought the axe down on a section of trunk and split it part way with one whack. He pulled on the tool and it released from the wood, and he turned to look over his shoulder. "Hey, Harve, I was, uh, just getting some exercise." His breath came out labored. He hadn't realized until then that he'd actually been working quite hard.

"Well, I'm not gonna have to split anything until tomorrow after lunch, thanks to you."

Sam glanced at the small pile he created. "No problem." He set the trunk section in the middle of the stump, swung the axe over his shoulder, and threw it down. It sliced through and two halves fell off the stump. A couple more strikes and he had more firewood ready.

The way Sam attacked the wood reminded Harvey of the times early in his marriage, when instead of arguing with Liza, he would come out to 'think'. The idea that he might not be the only one who did something like that amused him. "I got those coordinates for ya," Harvey declared as he handed him a piece of paper.

Sam rested the axe against his leg, swiped the sleeve of the flannel shirt across his forehead, wiping off the sweat and slivers of wood that flew from his work, and took the paper. "Thanks, Harve. Did they ask you what you wanted them for?"

"Yeah, but I told 'em it was somethin' secret. He kinda looked at me funny, but then, he usually does." Harvey shrugged. "I'm jest some country hick ta him."

"I appreciate this, Harve. So does my friend."

"As long as it helps take care of them guys at the fort, I'd do jest 'bout anythin' to help." He cocked his head to the side. "Why don't we go inside? How's Vivien doin'?"

"She's fine." Sam replied succinctly, tipping off Harvey that things were not good between them. Not that he needed a clue. When he returned and found Liza staying outside with the wash, she told him what she heard.

"Ah. Well, I'm gonna go in and get some coffee 'fore I finish my chores fer the day."

"Okay. I think I'm gonna stay out here for a little while and cool off."

He sat on the stump and rested his forearms on the axe handle as he stared off into the distance. _Man, was I a chump, or what? I should have known she was a spy. She was too good to be true. And that crying act. I fell for it, hook, line and sinker! Sammy, you're losing it. When you get back to Miami, it's time to find Miss Right and settle down, stop chasing the bikinis before you get duped again._

"Sam? Supper's 'bout ready," Liza called to him and broke him out of his reverie.

"Coming!" He picked up the axe and left it near the cabin door, and then he entered the house.

Sam had no problem with sleeping on the floor. He had a problem, however, with sleeping in the same room as Vivien. He set his blankets and pillow down as far from her as he could, stretched out, and turned his back to her as he settled in for the night. Harvey and Liza closed their bedroom door, leaving him isolated with her.

"Sam," Vivien spoke softly, but loud enough for him to hear her. "I'm sorry."

"You were just doing your job, I guess." He shifted. "It's okay. Tomorrow we'll do our thing and after that...we'll get you to the hospital in DC, and, well, Mike will be around with Jesse. We can work together to find Fiona. You won't be needed. You can tell your boss that." He paused. "Night."

This time when he heard her crying, he wasn't so sure she was faking it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The hours dragged until the appointed time when Sam was scheduled to call Michael. At the crack of dawn Sam was awake, itching to take action. He helped Harve around the place doing chores, but with the two of them working together, it didn't take long to finish.

"Hey Sam, wanna go huntin' with me? I got a rifle you can use."

"What do you shoot this time of year?"

Harve grinned. "Pretty much whatever I want. Those ranger guys don't care. They know we gotta feed families out here, so they pretty much let us have free rein. Besides, we ain't on park land, so they got no jurisdiction."

"I see." He drained his coffee cup and scooped up the last of his pancakes onto a fork. "Sure, I'll go along." Anything to get him away from Vivien. Funny how he wanted nothing better than to be near her during every crisis, but now, when he knew she'd lied to him about who she was, she was like poison to him. As if he'd never lied to get a woman into bed! He tried to justify it, that this was different because with her he was putting his life on the line. That didn't make him feel any better.

Before they left the cabin, Sam asked, "Mind if I check out this rifle?"

"Go right ahead, Sam." Harve got it out of a cabinet and gave him the gun and some ammunition. Sam set them all on the table. In a minute he had the entire gun disassembled. "You got anything to clean this thing? It's a mess."

"Yeah. I haven't used it in awhile. I like my shotgun right fine." He handed Sam the cleaning supplies. "That one there was my daddy's gun."

Sam glanced at him. "Are you okay with me using it?"

"Sure." He nodded, sat and watched Sam clean the gun. In very short time he had it put back together, in his hands, sighting down the barrel.

"It's a fine piece of hardware, Harve. Kind of reminds me of one of my first rifles. My dad taught me to be a sniper with it."

"Whoooowe, this should be interestin', huntin' with you!"

"Y'all be careful out there, boys. Watch out for the crazies." Liza warned with a warm smile and a kiss for Harve.

"Oh yeah, we'll be fine," Sam assured her. "Come on, Harve. I feel a need to practice for later on." He purposefully avoided Vivien's glance his way. That morning he'd taken care of her as professionally as he could, without making small talk or kidding around like he did when they first met. He was just part of a mission to her. He had to remember that.

Harve staked out his favorite tree for sighting deer, and Sam found one nearby that suited his purpose. Neither man spoke once they climbed up into the trees and waited. Sam thought it was too late in the morning to catch sight of a deer, but they were in some heavily wooded area. The shadows made it cooler, and he pulled the borrowed jacket around himself to keep the chill at bay. He heard a crackle of dry leaves and he scanned the horizon. He saw a large buck walking through the woods, oblivious to them. He sniffed the air, stopped, and put his muzzle to the ground in search of greens.

Sam smiled. _You're mine, buddy._ He sighted down the barrel which rested in a y formed by two branches, the stock against his shoulder to keep the gun steady. His legs wrapped tighter around the tree branch as he gently squeezed the trigger. He anticipated the recoil so he wouldn't fall out of the tree, and he watched as the bullet hit its mark. The buck shot up and started running, but Sam was a quick shot. Two more before the buck was out of range, and he went down hard.

"Woah, Sam! That was excellent shooting!" Harve was out of his perch and running toward the animal.

Sam shimmied down the tree and raced after him. By the time he arrived, Harve had given the buck the death blow to the head.

"Dang, that's one big buck! This'll keep me and Liza fed for a long time." He glanced up at Sam. "Unless you wanna take it with ya."

"No, he's all yours, Harve. Just think of it as payment for letting us stay with you for a while."

"Wow. Thanks, Sam!" He gazed at the animal and shook his head. "This is unbelievable. I've never seen anybody shoot like that before!"

"I told you, I've been trained as a sniper. First by my dad, and then by the military."

"They sure do a good job."

"Ain't that the truth." Sam grinned. "Question is, how are we going to get him back to your house?"

"We'll gut him, and then leave him here for now. Then we'll get the horses hooked up to the wagon, come back, and pick him up."

Sam had never cleaned a deer before, so he was in for a real treat. He'd been trained to do field medicine, including crude surgery in an emergency, but this was something completely different and on a grander scale. He held his breath now and then, hoping he wouldn't lose his breakfast. Afterward, Harve dug a hole and buried the entrails. Sam was a little unsure about leaving the carcass alone, but Harve didn't seem to think it was an issue. Indeed, when they returned with the horses, the buck was still there. Not even the forest scavengers had gotten to it yet.

They brought it back to the house and he and Harve hung it up in a tree. Liza went outside and they didn't see her again until she started bringing in pieces of the deer to salt down and prepare for processing. Sam cautiously glanced at Vivien. She looked as if she needed some fresh air. She was turning green.

"Viv, come on. Let's go out front." The deer was in back, so she wouldn't have to see it. It took some effort to squelch how he was feeling, to be a bigger person and show her some grace. "Here, I'll help you up." He removed the IV that morning, so she didn't have that to drag around. She was drinking plenty of fluids on her own and eating, getting her strength back.

"Sam, could you, um, help me get to the, uh, outhouse?"

He took a breath. "Sure."

When that task was taken care of, he helped her to a wooden glider in the front yard. He set her on it and put her foot up. She looked up at him with disappointment, and he realized that she hoped he would sit with her. He settled himself into an Adirondack style chair.

"I really don't know what I can say, Sam. I should have been honest with you up front, since we were going to be working together anyway." She paused. "If sorry isn't good enough, maybe you're not the honorable man I thought you were."

"I am, and I'm loyal to those who are honest to me. The ones I can trust. You, I'm not so sure I can trust." He wanted to. He really, really wanted to. But whether it was because she was so attractive, or whether it was because she was charming, smart, and sweet, he wasn't sure. Either way, it came down to the fact that he let his heart rule his head too many times, and now he was in the middle of a struggle for his life. He didn't want to make the wrong choice that could cost him and his friends everything.

"If I had my laptop with me right now, you could see my orders, what I was working on." She paused. "I had leads to where Fiona could be."

"So did I, but they're gone now. And so are yours."

"No, it's not gone."

"What, more tricks up your sleeve?" He glared at her.

"No! When you were out hunting, Liza showed me what else Harve brought home. The only thing that wasn't there was your laptop and the stuff we had in our pockets. Oh yeah, and my purse was gone. But everything else was there."

"If you're lying..."

"Never again, Sam. I swear to you, everything I tell you from now on is the truth."

The ice in his expression melted slightly. "Where's your laptop? I'll go get it."

Sam retrieved her computer, relieved that it was exactly where she said it would be. He gave it to her, and she started it up. Then he set up a chunk of wood for her to use as a prop for her leg and he sat beside her on the glider. As she showed him file after file, he was amazed. She had a lot more intel than he had, and a lot of good leads.

He whistled. "I'm glad Mike and Jesse are coming, because it's going to take us a while to track all these down." He used his index finger to run down a list of data and stopped on one line. "Holy crap, Viv. Look!"

She peered at the type. "Prescott, Tennessee?" She locked eyes with him. "That's here!"

"It makes sense now. Anson wants us all here in one place, and he's going to take us down at the same time. Like that general said, he's going to get rid of everything that Mike ever loved or protected. Killing us all at once would do it." He paused, and a chill ran through his body. "Maddie," he whispered.

"Who's Maddie?"

"You did your homework, honey, but not good enough apparently. Maddie is Mike's mom." He pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at his watch. "It's a little early, but this is an emergency." He quickly dialed Michael's number. "Mike, it's Sam."  
>"Sam. You're early."<p>

"Yeah, I know, but I had to call. Where's your Ma?"

"She's with a friend, and she's got protection."

"Did you know Anson is targeting not just Fi and me, but her too?"

"I suspected as much. That's why I got her protection. Don't worry, Sam. Just tell me where you are."

"Okay. These are the coordinates." He read them off the piece of paper. "You better hurry, Mike. I've got a feeling this is going down soon."

"We'll be there as soon as we can." Michael cut the connection.

"Sam, is there anything I can do?"

"Not really, Viv. But thanks. Thanks for asking."

She reached for his hand, and when he let her clasp it, she knew that he was beginning to trust her again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Harve was warned that Michael and Jesse were on the way, but he also knew that the time was coming when the crazy men at the fort would get their due. He patrolled the woods around the house, vigilant for anything out of the ordinary. When two ATVs came down the narrow lane that led from town to their house, Harve was ready to pick off the riders.

"No, Harve, those are my friends," Sam exclaimed softly as he pushed down the barrel of the gun Harve aimed at them. Then he strode into the clearing where Michael and Jesse parked the vehicles. "Mike! Jesse! Man, I didn't think I'd ever see you guys again!" He gave each of them a bear hug, which they gladly reciprocated.

"Yeah, we were thinking...well, we didn't know what to think when we didn't hear from you," Jesse said. "Man, you look like a hillbilly in those clothes." Sam ignored Jesse's statement about his fashion.

"When you didn't call, I knew something was up." Michael looked at Sam with a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I didn't want to lose you, too."

"Ah, I took care of myself...with a little help from Vivien." He grinned, but then his expression changed. "Which reminds me, Mike. Why didn't you tell me who she was when I told you her name? Why didn't you tell me she was CIA?"

Michael stared at him, a shocked look on his face. "Vivien Chase is CIA?"

"Aw come on, Mikey! Don't mess with me, man! She told me she's CIA, and she's got a ton of leads on her computer. She said she was supposed to help me find Fi."

As the look on Michael's face changed to one of dread, Sam suddenly realized that he'd been duped again. "Mike, please tell me...is she CIA or not?"

"Sam, if she's CIA, I don't know her."

Sam closed his eyes, fighting back the mixture of mortification and rage. Through his lips, he ground out, "If she's not with the agency, then who is she?"

"I'm someone who believes in your mission to get rid of Anson, and people like him. I work for someone who wishes to remain anonymous." Vivien came out of the cabin on crutches that Sam had fashioned for her that afternoon to help pass the time. "Sam, if you feel like you can't believe a word that comes out of my lips, please believe this one thing. I never meant to hurt you. Everything else I said was true. I just needed to keep my employer a secret."

Sam's fists balled at his sides. He'd never wanted to hit a woman so much in his life. It scared him, but his fear mixed with his anger until he wasn't sure he could control himself any longer. "Viv, just...just shut up, and get back in the cabin. We'll handle this ourselves."

"What, just the three of you? I don't think so."

"No, we've got backup coming," Michael replied with a thin smile. "You better listen to Sam before he wrings your neck, Vivien."

Jesse agreed. "Yeah, I've never seen him so mad before. No telling what he'll do."

Sam could tell by the way Jesse looked at him that everything he was saying, he believed. He had to calm down, think about the mission. He took a breath and let it out as Vivien turned away and retreated to the cabin without another word or a look back. He wouldn't look at her. He was too angry with her, and himself for falling for her and her tricks: to gaze at her now would make him lose it completely.

"Okay, she's gone. What do you make of her, man?"

"I don't know, Jesse. I...I really don't wanna talk about it. Let's just figure out how we're going to handle this situation."

"How we're going to handle it is this," Michael began. "We're going to ride in there and let them take us."

"What?"

"As soon as they have us, our support team will come in with choppers and guns blazing."

"But what if Anson isn't there?"

"Oh, he'll show. He and I had a little chat before we came here. He knows when I'm coming, and he thinks that I'm turning you guys over to him and taking up his cause."

"You convinced him that you're turning to the dark side? That's brilliant, Mike!"

"Best Trojan horse scenario I've ever seen." Jesse smiled.

Michael stared at Sam. "And we're taking Vivien with us."

Sam shook his head. "No, Mike. What's the point?"

"If she's really with Anson, as I suspect she is, we'll find out soon enough. If she isn't, she may be working for someone who set us all up for a purpose. If she gets caught in the crossfire..."

"I get where you're going with this, Mike. Not sure I like it..."

"Sam, you've got to get over this hump and put on your game face. Forget about what she said or didn't say. She's a liar, and she's good at it. Why should that surprise you?"

"Yeah, you're right, Mike." He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this. You guys armed?"

"Of course," Jesse answered as he handed Sam his sidearm.

Sam caressed the cool metal and smiled. "Jess, you shouldn't have."

"I knew you couldn't go into this without your favorite gun."

"I love you, man."

As they silently made their preparations, Harve came over to observe, inching ever closer to their arsenal. "Hey, you fellas need some help?"

Sam replied, "No, Harve. This is gonna be too dangerous."

"But...but these guys...they've been terrorizin' all my neighbors fer far too long. We all wanna help stop 'em." He smiled. "Hey, I got an idea. If yer gonna pretend to turn yerselves in, why don't I and a few of my buddies haul ya in ourselves? Make it look like we're finally givin' in to 'em."

"That would really put their guard down, if they thought the locals were turning to their side," Jesse said with a thoughtful tone. "I like it."

"Yeah, let's not just catch them with their pants down, let's catch them with their pants down to the floor, eh Mike?" Sam laughed.

"Harve, can you get your people together in about twenty minutes?"

"Sure can!" He ran off down the path at full speed.

"Okay, so we'll have Harve and his people escort us into the compound. When Anson appears..."

"Which he'll probably do in the command post, at the end of the fort..." Sam drew a quick sketch of the layout. "Right there."

"Excellent. There's no place for them to run when our support swoops in from here," Michael pointed to the fort entrance, "And the air."

"You know these guys are pretty dumb. Did they ever think they'd need a second entrance to this fort?"

"You know, Jesse, I never saw one," Sam replied. "And Viv and I had plenty of time to take a good look at the place as they led us to the command center." He bit his bottom lip. "The one thing that worries me about this plan, Mike, is that there are women and children in there. We could have some high casualties if they get in the way."

"Yeah. I guess that's a risk we're going to have to take. Anson didn't give the same consideration to all the people he killed trying to get to me."

Sam frowned and stared at him with a concerned look on his face. "Don't ever be like him, Mike. There's gotta be something we can do."

"Maybe they aren't so innocent in all this, Sam. You want us to take that chance," Jesse asked.

"That's possible." Sam let out a breath. No matter which way they went, it was ultimately their lives on the line, and if Anson walked... "Okay, let's get back to the plan."

Michael finished giving Sam the details. By the time he finished, Michael looked up and found ten men dressed in jeans, overalls, and lots of flannel standing around with a varied assortment of shotguns and rifles. "Harve's got a lot of friends," he said, impressed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Harve led the way to the fort, his ragtag militia surrounding Michael, Sam and Jesse on the road. In the end, they decided not to use Vivien in their plan. Her bad ankle could hamper them if it turned out she was one of the good guys and they all needed to escape quickly. To make it look good, they tied their hands with rope in such a way that would let them easily free themselves at the right moment. As they walked, Michael scoped the area around them, gauging how the air support would come in to assist.

Sam looked around at the trees and the limited escape route. "I sure hope this works, Mike. We could be walking into a bloodbath."

"I know, Sam. But our support will come from the air and the ground." He spied a camouflaged helmet in the ditch near the gate. "Ground support is already here."

Sam followed his line of sight and saw several troops moving about the forest, getting into position. On the right side of the road, there were more. "Okay, I feel better now."

"It's gonna be okay, Sam," Harve assured him with a nod. "Me and the guys all got your backs."

Sam smiled. "Thanks Harve. You're a good man to have around."

"That's what my wife says," he joked.

"Okay, okay. It's time," Michael spoke softly. "Harve, you know what to say."

Harve nodded and moved to the front of the group. He looked up to the guard towers. "Hey! Hey, we've got some people here your boss has been lookin' fer! Open up!"

One of the guards looked down and examined the group intently. Then he put a walkie talkie up to his lips. He spoke into it, listened, and replied, "Where's the girl?"

"She's...she's dead." He glanced at Sam with wide eyes, unsure if he'd said the right thing.

Sam responded with a slight nod.

"Okay, bring 'em in." The gate opened and Harve's small band of men hovered around their fake prisoners as they were led to the command center as expected.

Even before they approached it, a figure stepped outside and stood at the top step. Anson's smiling face gazed down at him. "Well, Michael. It's so nice to see you again." He paused and eyed Sam and Jesse. "You brought your friends, too. How nice. But you know it wouldn't be a complete party without your nearest and dearest." He stepped aside.

The command center door opened, and Madelyn stumbled out, pushed none too gently by a guard. Anson hoped for a reaction on Michael's face, but the spy remained stone faced. Sam and Jesse, however, were not immune to the shock of seeing her scared face. It only got worse as she was followed by Nate, his wife Ruth, and their child.

"And how could we forget the dear Fiona?" Anson swept his arm out dramatically, and Fiona appeared with her hands bound by cuffs in front of her. Her eyes bored into Anson as she passed, then locked onto Michael's as she stopped where they held her on the edge of the porch. She tried to hide her happiness and relief at seeing him, but it was impossible. "Ah, such a sweet reunion. Too bad it's such a short one."

"Anson, there's no need..." Michael stepped forward, pushing through their escorts. "I'll come work for you. You don't have to kill them."

"What's this? A bleeding heart beats in the great Michael Westen's chest after all? Who knew?" Anson smiled briefly, then his hard expression returned. "No, you don't get to decide, Michael. This is my show." He turned to one of the guards. "Grab Sam and Jesse, and take them all out to the promenade by the fence over there."

"Yes sir." The captives were rounded up and herded to the space between the cell where Sam and Vivien were kept, and another building. Everyone watched as they were lined up.

"Come on," Michael muttered.

"Where are they," Harve whispered.

"They're here." Michael knew when he saw Nate's head turn toward the back stockade fence. Their ground support came in from the back so silently, the amateur soldiers were no match for their numbers and firepower. Some fired muskets at the troops coming through the front gate, but it was useless. For their efforts, they received a volley that cut them down where they stood before they could even think of reloading.

It was a bloodbath alright, but not on his team. He heard the thump thumping of chopper blades overhead and looked up to see several hovering, with snipers ready to take out anyone who tried to kill them.

"No!"

Muskets cracked and Sam and Jesse, who were on opposite ends of the line, went down.

"Nooooo!" Michael heard the scream and the roar of an engine. He turned his head and gaped as Vivien and Liza came in riding one of the ATVs they left at Harve's cabin. Liza ducked and steered while Vivien rode behind her with a Sig rifle they left behind. She strafed the shooters and they went down. He expected her to stop, but she and Liza kept going. Only when she reached the command center did she park at the foot of the stairs.

"Anson! This is over!" She aimed directly at his heart. "Give it up now!"

"How can I, when I still have the upper hand?" He raised his hand in seemingly dramatic effect, but it was a signal.

Vivien's breath rushed out of her as the bullet hit her in the back and she fell off the ATV. Liza screamed, and Harve reached for her, dragging her away from the target. She clung to him, her face buried in his chest.

Anson grinned as he looked upon the carnage in the promenade. Three of the people he wanted dead were down, and with a wave of his hand, the rest would lie in a pool of blood. The snipers in the helicopters were too busy trying to keep that from happening. He savored the moment, slowly raising his hand one more time. The firing squad members who were still standing took aim.

A percussion sounded above the chaos. The bullet entered his abdomen at an angle and traveled up, up through his body and lodged somewhere in his upper body. In the process, it pierced his heart. He wore a shocked, wide-eyed expression as his body fell lifeless to the porch.

It seemed like it happened in slow motion. The firing squad turned, gaping at their leader as he bled out on the floorboards. Everyone's eyes focused on the scene. No one saw Sam and Jesse sit up. Sam winced as he rubbed his chest where the bullet proof vest stopped the musket ball. Sure, there wasn't as much velocity in one of those suckers, but it still hurt! He stood and peered over the shoulders of the militia.

"What the...who shot him?" He parted the two men in front of him and started walking toward the scene, followed by Jesse, Fiona, and Michael's family. "Vivien."

He picked up the pace and ran to where she lay. The barrel of the Sig was still warm from the last shot she took that ended the terrorization of Michael's life and that of his family. He reached out and touched her back, his hand stained by her blood. Despite all her lies and coverups, his gut wrenched at the sight of her lying motionless, her eyes closed. Despite everything, he was still in love with her, and to see that love die, it killed him inside. He bowed his head, pressed a bloody fist to his forehead, and wept.

"Sam," Maddie whispered, but he ignored her. So she tried again. "Sam. Look! She's not dead!"

Sam raised his head in time to see Vivien's eyelids flutter. They opened, and she turned her head enough to see his face.

She smiled slightly. "H-how'd I do, Sam?"

"Dead shot, Viv." His voice shook with emotion. "You would make a great SEAL."

"Thanks." She lost consciousness. Before Sam could worry about her slipping away, a medical team swooped in and attended to her.

Michael stood beside him and grabbed Sam's arm, gently pulling him to stand. "Come on, Sam. Let's get out of their way and let them do their job."

"Yeah." He nodded. "She...she didn't betray us, Mike."

"No, she didn't. She said she worked for someone who wanted to see Anson stopped."

Sam turned to him. "Yeah. You know who that is?"

"It was me, Sam. With a little help from Pearce and the CIA." He smiled. "She was working with us, the CIA, the whole time."

"Then why all the zigs and zags in her story? And why didn't _you _just tell me the truth?"

"We needed to keep you in the dark. When your plane went down and we didn't know where you two were, she knew what she was supposed to do if something like that happened." Michael paused. "I'm sorry, Sam. I should have told you everything from the beginning, but I was afraid if you knew too much, Anson would take you out before our plan could be completed."

"He did try to take me out with that plane crash!"

Michael nodded. "You and Vivien. Which goes to show we've got a leak in the agency somewhere. So this isn't over yet, Sam. We've got to find that leak."

"At least you won't have any more scumbags trying to recruit you. You're in with the agency now, right?"

"Yes. And I would bet that you've moved higher up in their minds, thanks to this mission." He smiled at Sam and threw his arm around his shoulders. "Come on, let's get out of here. I want my family to go back to Miami and maybe they can all finally relax."

"I second that."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Michael walked into the CIA offices wearing a new suit and tie. This was supposed to be his first day as an official member of the CIA again, a day he worked so hard for, and for so long. He pulled on the lapels nervously. What he was about to do was the last thing he wanted to do, but if he hoped to have any kind of life, he had to do it. He had to go back to taking care of the little guy and take down the big bad guys, starting now.

He made his way to Agent Pearce's office and knocked.

"Come in," she mumbled as she had her head buried in a report. She looked up at him and flashed him a grin. "Michael! So good to see you made it back safely from the deep woods. How's your family?"

"Everybody's great. Everything worked out well in the end. Although, it could have gone a lot worse."

"Yes. I heard there were some...problems...with Viven Chase."

"Actually, she kind of turned out to be a hero in this. It was her bullet that took out Anson." Michael stood with his hands in his pockets, staring down at her. "You know, we were going around and around trying to figure out who blew the lid on this operation of trying to get Anson and free Fiona, and when we interrogated a few of his people, they folded like a house of cards." He leaned over as he said, "One name kept popping up: Kim Pearce." He pressed his knuckles into the desk. "So tell me, Kim, how did your name wind up on so many lips?"  
>She scoffed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Michael."<p>

"Since before Anson started pursuing me, there were connections to information that he had that only you would have known. I told you about Sam going to DC to look for Fi, and what happens next? Plane crash! And how convenient that two people who were looking for the same person happened to be on the same flight." His eyes bored into hers. "Several people died needlessly on that plane. They were innocent, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Does that even prick your conscience just a little bit?"

"I had nothing to do with that, Michael! And if you hadn't sent Vivien after Sam to help him, things would have been different."

He nodded. "Sam could very well be dead right now. As well as Fiona. I know. You've got a lot of blood on your hands, Pearce, and as far as I'm concerned, you're a traitor."

"Are you done," she asked, annoyance written on her face.

"No, I haven't even begun," Michael replied with an evil grin. "I quit."

"You quit?"

"Hey, it's what you wanted, isn't it? Get Anson to recruit me, hope I take the bait, and then you can not only fire me all over again, you can send out special forces or whatever to hunt me down because I'm working with the bad guy." He sniffed. "I know who paid you to take me out in this elaborate scheme. I'm just curious, how much was he paying you?"

"This is all speculation, and you know it."

"Do I?" He snapped his fingers, and in limped Vivien Chase. Under her arm she carried a file folder, which she tossed onto the pile on Pearce's desk.

"Thank you, Vivien."

"You're welcome, Michael." She beamed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

"You know where to find him?"

"Oh yeah." She smiled brightly at Michael. "Thanks for believing in me."

"You're welcome. I just hope Sam gives you a second chance."

She nodded and disappeared down the hall. In her place, two armed men appeared. "Your escort, Kim."

"You're crazy if you think any of this is going to stick on me." She stood and the men came forward to take custody of her.

"We'll see. I think you're going to be really surprised with what Vivien found on you."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

He sat in his usual spot under the sun, watching all the hot bodies in bikinis strolling by. He saw a girl with dark brown hair who reminded him of Vivien, and suddenly, girl-watching didn't seem so fun anymore. It hurt to be left in the dark as to who she was, and then to get flip-flopping stories...he still wasn't sure what the truth was. Maybe he was better off being ignorant. He knew that getting her out of his mind would probably be his best course of action. That's why he sat at the table at Carlito's enjoying the scenery and drowning his memories in beer.

"Hi, Sam."

He didn't even have to turn his head to know who belonged to that soft voice. It stabbed him in the heart and clung to him like a briar. "Vivien." He refused to turn around and look at her.

She wouldn't play the same game. Instead, she moved around his chair and stood across from him. "Mind if I sit awhile? It's been a few weeks, but I still need to keep my weight off this ankle for a little longer."

"It's a free country." He waved a hand to the chair, and she sat in it. While she concentrated on attracting the server, he glanced at her.

She wore her summer whites and looked stunning in the skirt that brushed across her knees. She had great legs, something he'd forgotten when she wore jeans during most of their time together. _Watch it, Sam. Don't let her physical attributes lure you in again. Then you're an idiot._ Yes, white looked really good on her. She turned so her legs were under the table and her arms crossed on its surface as she caught him looking. She smiled, her lips painted a regulation color that pronounced their graceful shape enough to remind him of how good it felt to kiss them. She wore the rest of her makeup to Navy standards, and she looked like a fresh faced airbrushed model. If he closed his eyes, he could remember when her makeup was gone, the slight imperfections in her skin, and how they made her look more real and inviting.

Sam shook his head. He didn't want to go there. He took a long drag on his beer, draining it just as the server came with another round for him, and a margarita for her.

"Thanks." He set his empty bottle on the server's tray before giving his full attention to Vivien. "So, why are you here?"

"I had to hand deliver a packet of intelligence to Agent Pearce's office."

"Some other poor sap you duped to get what you wanted?"

That hurt, and he saw it in the devastated look on her face. "Sam, I never wanted to hide the truth from you. I was working with the CIA, kind of freelancing, like Michael was before he got burned. We suspected a link between Pearce and Anson, but it took a long time to come up with all the pieces and put them together." She paused. "When he took Fiona, that upped the ante, and we had to do something."

"I could have gotten involved. I tried to get involved by going to look for info on where Fi was."

"You were so headstrong about doing it, and Michael tried to discourage you, because I was already working on it. But he couldn't tell you that, because we were afraid it would compromise all my work." She took a drink. "When you got on that plane, Michael had to think fast. He figured if I were with you, helping, I could steer you away from potential landmines. So I used the cover of my side job, being in medical services at the Naval hospital, and...we stole the real Vivien Chase's identity. Okay, we didn't really steal it, just borrowed it for awhile."

"Who are you really? Or do you have to lie about that too?"

"My name is Vivien Chase, just not _the_ Vivien Chase. Strange coincidence."

"I still think you could have been honest about what you were up to. I would have kept my mouth shut."

"Like you did when you kissed me?" The corner of her mouth tipped up.

Sam turned his attention toward the boardwalk and the beach. "Thanks for bringing that up, Viv. I feel better now, because not only was I your patsy, I was a fool on top of it."

"You weren't a fool, Sam. I was the fool."

He glanced at her sideways when she reached out and covered the hand that hovered near his sweating beer bottle.

"I know you won't believe this, but because Michael told me about you beforehand, when I finally met you..." She shook her head. "I feel like an idiot, but Sam, I have to tell you. I fell in love at first sight." She grinned. "Well, maybe not at first sight, but when you took charge and got us out of that plane and we were settled in that cabin with the rain coming down and the danger..." She leaned forward as she caressed the top of his hand. "It was all I could do to keep my hands off you."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Not really. I know you're soured on ever believing anything I ever say again."

"You got that right, sister. So I'm asking again, why are you here?"

"I'm a fool, Sam. I was hoping there might be some little shred of forgiveness inside you. I was hoping that maybe, deep inside, you felt a little bit of love for me too." She blinked rapidly, reached into her purse and pulled out some cash, which she laid on the table. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. It won't happen again." She got up and turned away. He noticed that her shoes weren't exactly regulation, but she needed something flat while her ankled healed.

Maybe she was a fool, but would he be an even bigger one if he fell for her again? She left the patio and stopped in front of the boardwalk, unsure which way to go. Her eyes locked onto Sam's, and he saw a genuine sadness in hers. Against his better judgment, it tore at his heart. He took one more drag on his beer and she started walking south parallel to the beach. _There's still time to stop her, Sam._

_Is that really the wisest thing to do?_

_ Who am I kidding? When have I ever been smart when it came to women? Besides, this one really seems to...like me a lot, if not love me. If I can believe it._

Sam growled low. He could drive himself crazy reasoning with himself. He quickly stood, paid his tab with a wad of bills that the server retrieved as he escaped the patio. He turned right and walked with large strides, looking for her in the crowd of people, but it was as if she'd disappeared. _How could she have gotten away so fast? Maybe she was just in my imagination. Am I that desperate that I have to dream of women who don't want me and fantasize that they do? Boy, have I sunk to a new low!_

"Sam, are you going to stand there all day looking clueless, or are you going to turn around and say hello properly?"

Sam turned, a slow tentative smile spreading across his face. "Viv. I'm probably going to hate myself later for this."

"No you won't."

"We'll see." He took two steps closer to her where she waited for him on a bench. Then he asked, "Mind if I sit here?"

"I've been saving this spot for someone special," she replied. "And he just got here."

Sam couldn't help himself, he had to look around. At the sound of her laughter, he locked on her again and perched himself on the edge of the bench facing her. His arm rested on the back, and he waited for the slightest signal that he should leave. But the look in her eyes wasn't that signal. She leaned toward him, and like a magnet attracted to metal, he leaned toward her. They met in the middle, and their lips touched in a light kiss. He was about to pull away, but her hand nestled into the back of his neck and held him there. His arm moved from the bench to curl around her back.

He exhaled. She felt good in his arm and he moved the other to surround her. Vivien's arms encircled him as their kiss deepened. When their lips finally parted, she whispered, "Please, Sam. Give me a chance. I'm being stationed down here for the next six months, and it's going to be awfully hard to exist day to day knowing you're here, spurning me."

"Spurning. Sounds like one of those fancy author's words," Sam muttered against her cheek.

"Yeah. Fitting, don't you think?" She pulled back to see his reaction. "I love you, Sam. I'm passionate about you. I admire you, and the man I saw in action only reinforced my feelings." Her eyes flashed with desire. "I hoped that you could say the same things about me, but I understand if you can't."

"Oh, Viv," he pressed her body close to his. "You don't know how much I want you." He was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Pulling away with a sheepish smile, he said, "Sorry, I've got to take this. Stay here, I'll be right back."

"A new phone." She said with arched eyebrows.

"Yeah. We'll see how long I keep this one."

As she watched him animatedly talking on the phone, Vivien realized she had a long road ahead of her if she wished to win the heart of Sam Axe. Was she up to the challenge? If she didn't try, he'd probably think less of her, and he would never see the value of a relationship with her. Yes, she would prove herself to him if was the last thing she did.

"Sorry about that. My friend...I mean, Mike, he's got a new gig for us." Sam sat on the bench. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to go back to Carlito's and meet up with him, Fi, and Jesse." He kissed her on the lips. "But I promise, you'll see me again. And you can bet money on that."

"Not if I don't see you first," she replied with a smile.

"You've got a deal, baby." He put his hand behind her back, pulled her against his chest, and gave her a kiss that she wouldn't forget for some time to come. He probably wouldn't forget it, either. "Well, I've gotta go." He quick-kissed her, but he still didn't get up. He laughed. "I've really gotta go."

She gave him a long kiss.

"Jeez, forget about it. Mike can fill me in later." He grabbed her by the hand and led her down the boardwalk.

"Not so fast, Sam. My ankle!"

"Oh yeah, forgot about that." He scooped her up under the knees. She shrieked in surprise and laughed as he carried her away.

**Okay, I know this story had as many holes as Swiss cheese. So fire away! I was just having fun. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!**


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